


Hunting with Wings

by sashton



Series: Wings [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Angel Sam Winchester, Angels, Archangels, BAMF Sam, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Claiming, Dark Sam Winchester, Demons, Dirty Talk, Enochian, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Episode: s04e02 Are You There God? It's Me Dean Winchester, Episode: s04e03 In the Beginning, Episode: s04e04 Metamorphosis, Episode: s04e19 Jump the Shark, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Angels, Incest, Jessica Moore Lives, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's Bad Parenting, Lube, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Oral Sex, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Smut, Tattoos, Teasing, Vessels, Wingfic, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 34,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashton/pseuds/sashton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam disappears from Stanford in the middle of the night and Dean sells his soul for his father.</p><p>When he finds himself in a pine box, the search for who, or what, pulled him from the pit lead the Winchesters (and Bobby) to discover what happened to Sam as well as why their bloodline is so important.</p><p>The first part of an AU that will span Season 4 and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Hell and Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Work in Progress, so tag WILL change as the story progresses.
> 
> My rough plan is to have this vaguely hit on the key points from canon, but with considerable differences. As of the end of 2013, I've got 24 or so chapters written, but am only 3 or 4 episodes into season 4, so this is gonna be a big one! I'm trying to keep to a Monday posting schedule, but occasionally am having to take short breaks either due to personal circumstances or to ensure I'm far enough ahead with my writing that if I get a little stuck writing a chapter, it won't disrupt my posting schedule.
> 
> As a warning, my rough plan (which is exceptionally vague) has the word 'Destiel' scrawled on it with question marks next to it. However, I'm not completely sure as to whether I'm going to head in that direction or not - if I do, I'll update tags accordingly.
> 
> This work isn't beta-ed, but I'm fairly critical of my own writing so have issues with posting material littered with mistakes. I can't guarantee to have caught them all, so will happily fix problems - spelling, grammar or plot - if you point them out!
> 
> Finally, massive apologies if you find my complete shredding of religious lore offensive - the show never really has angels talking about it extensively and I kinda wanted to throw in that whole "You do realise the Bible isn't infallible?" thing in there and kinda went a little over-the-top.

Dean picked the lock on the door to Sam’s student apartment in Stanford, and headed towards the kitchen, eager for a beer after the long drive. Fully expecting his movements to wake his brother and call him downstairs, Dean kept cautious. He gave a slight grin when he heard a baseball bat come swinging towards him, picturing his brother’s reaction when he realised who it was. He spun, blocking the bat and moved to disable his assailant. However, he was completely shocked when he realised that it was not his brother, but rather a cute blonde. This shock caused him to fail at capturing the bat, giving her the opportunity at a second swing. Realising that the element of surprise had been lost, she screamed as she swung,

“You took my boyfriend – did you really think I won’t be ready when you came back?”

Dean stepped out of range of the bat and raised his hands in surrender,

“What you talking about? I didn’t take anyone –I’m Sam’s brother Dean, I thought I’d pay a surprise visit. Speaking of which, where is Sammy? Not like him to shy away from protecting others.”

The girl tilted her head, slightly confused,

“You’re his brother? Then surely, you know? The police said they’d contact his family.”

“I gotta new phone, Sam don’t have the number yet.” Dean paused for a minute fully comprehending what the girl had said, “Wait, the police at involved? What’s going on?”

The girl shook her head and looked on the verge of tears,

“He’s gone. Someone took him.” She stared at Dean, “The police aren’t really doing much – they couldn’t find any leads. There’s been no word – nothing.”

Dean looked completely lost,

“You’re talking about Sam?” He held up his hand, “’bout this tall? Floppy hair? Sam Winchester?”

The girl nodded,

“I’m his girlfriend, Jess,” a tear rolled down her cheek, “and I failed him. He was taken, _kidnapped_ , and I was in the next room, I should’ve done something. Instead I thought he was pulling a prank.”

“Sam? You’re telling me someone got Sammy?”

She nodded, before choking back a sob,

“I heard him get in from the library late a couple of weeks back and head to the kitchen. It sounded like he was making himself a coffee.” She bit her lip, “I then heard him ask someone who they were. Next thing I know, he’s screaming my name and I hear a crash. By the time I got to the kitchen, there was coffee and smashed china on the floor and he was gone. All the doors and windows were locked and beside the coffee there was no signs of a struggle – the police are completely baffled.”

Dean thought for a moment, this sounded like their sort of thing, so he knew what he should be asking, but never thought he’d be asking those questions regarding his own brother. He took a deep breath,

“Did you notice anything unusual – weird smells? Something out of place?”

Jess shook her head,

“Nothing as weird as your family superstition.” Dean looked blank, so Jess continued, “You know, rubbing salt into windowsills for protection. I thought he was a bit strange at first, but he said it was a family thing, so I just learned to live with it.”

Dean nodded, realising what Sam had been doing,

“Yeah, I can see how you’d think it was kinda odd, but it’s just one of those things we’ve always done.” Dean glanced around, “You mind if I take a look around?  I did a stint once as a PI so might spot something the cops didn’t.”

Jess waved for him to go ahead. Dean looked around, but besides piles of missing posters with his brother’s face on them, there was nothing out of place. Returning to Jess, he scribbled his number down on a bit of paper, “I’m gonna call in a few favours and ask some people if they heard anything about my brother. If _anything_ turns up, give me a call yeah?”

Dean excused himself and left, making his way to the Impala. Inside the apartment, he’d kept calm so as not to make Jess worse, but here on his own he let the emotions hit – his brother was gone. Sammy was gone. Taken most likely by something supernatural. Sam was alone and in trouble. For the first time in many years, Dean let his emotions overrun him and cried. 

* * *

 

The loss of the youngest Winchester brought Dean and John much closer together, so it wasn’t surprising when Dean sold his soul to save his father’s life. Even though his father had tried to get him out of his deal, even calling in favours from other hunters, Dean found himself being hunted by hellhounds. As the seconds counted down to Dean’s last midnight, his thoughts turned to his brother. Over the years and as a result of the amount of time and effort his father and he had put into looking for Sam, he’d come to the conclusion that his brother had died. As the hounds only he could see drew closer, Dean prayed that his brother did not experience fear when he died. Glancing at his Dad one final time, he reminded himself who his was doing this for and realised that after everything his dad had sacrificed for him, this was him repaying the debt. 

* * *

 

Expecting to remain in Hell until he had turned demon, it came as a huge surprise to Dean when he opened his eyes to find himself buried in a cheap pine box. Clawing his way out, he looked around at the devastation and wondered what had pulled him out of the pit. Making his way to the closest road, Dean stumbled across an old gas station. Although he felt bad, he broke in to pick up some water and protein bars and enough change to make several phone calls from the phone box outside. Glancing at a newspaper, he realised that he’d been downstairs for about four months – although it had felt more like forty years. As he washed himself in the bathroom sink, he lifted his shirt, expecting to see the scars from the hellhound attack. Realising that his chest was unblemished, he realised that he had been brought back in perfect condition. An itching on his left shoulder caused him to lift the sleeve, revealing a raw brand in the shape of a large handprint. Before he could consider what it meant, he heard the radio and television in the main part of the station start to play static. Fearing the worst, he grabbed a canister of salt and began pouring it on the windowsills. A loud ringing started to cause him pain, but he tried to continue. However, it eventually got too powerful, and he dropped to the floor, covering his ears in pain as the windows exploded around him. However, as quickly as it came, the noise faded, leaving Dean alone in the station wonder what the Hell had just happened.

Using the coins he raided from the shop till, he dialled in his dad’s mobile number. When the automated message notifying that the number was disconnected came back, he tried the only other number he could remember off the top of his head. The phone rang once and a voice came from the other end,

“Yeah?”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“It's me.”

“Who's _me_?”

“Dean.”

The dial tone sounded, indicating that the man who had helped to raise him had hung up. He dialled again,

“Who is this?”

“Bobby, listen to me.”

The elder hunter’s voice came back, irritated,

“This ain't funny. Call again, I'll kill ya.”

The dial tone sounded again, indicating to Dean that he wouldn’t be able to convince the hunter over the telephone. Turning around, he saw an old, beat-up white car. Heading over to the car, he hotwired it and turned the car in the direction of Sioux Falls.


	2. Seance

Dean pounded on Bobby’s door. When the elder hunter opened it suspiciously, Dean smiled cautiously,

“Surprise.”

Bobby looked flabbergasted,

“I, I don't...”

Dean shrugged,

“Yeah, me neither,” he walked past Bobby into his house, “but here I am.”

As he had been expecting, Bobby didn’t trust that he was actually _Dean_ so came at him with a silver knife. Dean blocked the older hunter,

“Bobby! It's me!”

“My ass!”

Dean shoved a chair in between them and held out his hand,

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and – you’re like my second parent. Bobby. It's me.”

Bobby lowered the knife and stepped forward slowly. He placed a hand gently on Dean’s shoulder. Suddenly he slashed at the younger hunter again, but Dean quickly managed to disarm the older man,

“I am not a shapeshifter!”

“Then you're a Revenant!”

Dean shoved Bobby away then slowly held up the knife,

“Alright. If I was either, could I do this – with a silver knife?”

Dean rolls up his left sleeve and, with a grimace, sliced his arm above the elbow with the knife. Bobby looked as though he was starting to come around,

“Dean?”

Dean nodded,

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.”

Bobby grabbed the younger hunter into a tight hug,

“It's – It’s good to see you, boy.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“But – how did you bust out?”

Dean shrugged,

“I don't know. I just, uh, I just woke up in a pine box.”

Bobby threw a bottle of water in Dean’s face. The younger man paused, before spitting out the water,

“I'm not a demon either, you know.”

Bobby looked guilty,

“Sorry. Can't be too careful.” They moved further into the house and Bobby continued to look confused, “But that don't make a lick of sense.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir.”

Bobby turned to confront Dean,

“Dean. I spoke to John. He said your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop and you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit –“

Dean shrugged,

“I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject.”

“What do you remember?”

“Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then – lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it. I tried to call Dad, but his number’s been disconnected, you don’t know what’s happened to him, do you?”

Bobby shrugged,

“I haven't talked to him for months.”

“I really need to talk to him. The grave site – it was like a nuke went off and then there was this – this force, this presence, I don't know, but it, it blew past me at a fill-up joint. Then there’s this.” He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the brand.

“What in the Hell?”

“It was like a demon just yanked me out. Or rode me out.”

“But why?”

Dean shrugged,

“Dunno. That’s what I want to talk to Dad about.”

Bobby walked over to his desk, pulling out one of his journals,

“I might be able to help you with that boy. I gotta psychic who deals with this sorta thing.” 

* * *

 

Arriving at Pamela’s house, Bobby knocked on the door. A young woman opened the door and smiled when she saw Bobby,

“Bobby!”

She grabbed the older man into a hug, lifting him briefly off the ground.

Bobby smiled back,

“You're a sight for sore eyes.”

She took a step back and looked Dean up and down appraisingly,

“So, this your boy?”

“Dean, this is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state.”

Dean smiled flirtingly,

“Hey.”

Pamela smiled,

“Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

Dean shrugged,

“If you say so.”

“Come on in.”

The two hunters followed the psychic into her house. Bobby gave Pamela a glance,

“So, you hear anything?”

“Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.”

“So what's next?”

Pamela thought for a moment,

“A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the deed.”

Bobby looked worried,

“You're not gonna summon the damn thing here?”

Pamela laughed,

“No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it. Like a crystal ball without the crystal.”

Dean smiled,

“I'm game.”

Pamela spread a black tablecloth covered in symbols over a small table before squatting in front of a cabinet, revealing a scrawled tattoo across her lower back,

Dean stared at it for a moment before asking,

“Who's Jesse?”

Pamela laughed,

“Well, it wasn't forever.”

Dean grinned,

“His loss.”

Pamela stood with several pillar candles in her hands and turned. She stopped in front of Dean and smirked,

“Might be your gain.”

Dean watched her with an open mouth as she passed him and finished setting up the table. When she was finished, the three of the sat around the table whilst Pamela lit the candles in the centre,

“Right. Take each other's hands,” she instructed, ”and I need to touch something our mystery monster touched.”

She grinned as she slid her hand along Dean’s inner thigh. He jumped,

“Whoa. Well, he didn't touch me there.”

Pamela grinned at him,

“My mistake.”

Dean looked around, nervous, then took off his outer shirt, pulling up his left sleeve to reveal the brand. Pamela laid her hand on the mark. She nodded and they closed their eyes, whilst she began to chant,

“I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.” The television flicked on, tuned to nothing but static. Pamela continued, “I invoke, conjure, and command – Samael? No. Sorry, I don't scare easy.”

Dean turned to Pamela, questioning,

“Samael?”

“Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back.” The white noise continued and the table started to shake, “I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face.”

As the noise and shaking grew more violent, Bobby interjected, shouting to be heard,

“We should stop. Samael – In Judo-Christianity, Samael is one of the archangels. He’s an angel of death. If he pulled Dean outta Hell, we should just be thankful and leave it at that.”

Dean nodded, before breaking the circle,

“If you’ve got someone claiming to be a death angel telling us to stop, we’d be mad to continue,” he glanced at Bobby, “at least without proper preparation.”


	3. Summoning

Back at Bobby’s house, the elder hunter started pulling out books on lore. He turned to Dean,

“If we’re gonna find out who this Samael is, get reading”

Dean started looking through the books that Bobby was throwing onto the desk,

“The Bible? Who is this guy?”

Bobby shrugged,

“He’s supposedly an archangel. We’re gonna be hitting piles of religious texts.”

Dean sighed and picked up his first text. 

* * *

 

Several hours later, he threw the latest book back onto the desk,

“This is ridiculous! In one book, he’s the father of Cain. In another, he seduced Eve in Eden. In one, he’s an angel, in another, he’s basically a demon. There seems to be nothing solid on him.”

Bobby smiled at him,

“We might not know who is he, but I’ve found a ritual to summon him. It was used centuries back to summon and bind Samael. I say we throw down a bunch of protective mojo – Devil’s traps, salt lines, iron, brass, silver - the works. I’ve got a workshop out back we can do it in.”

Dean grinned back,

“Let’s go question us an angel.”

Bobby looked slightly worried,

“You sure about this? If this is Samael we’re summoning, I don’t think he’s going to be best pleased. He’s got a record – some of the most grim and destructive acts in history are attributed to him.”

Dean shook his head,

“I doubt he’s actually an angel. Probably some unknown pagan god or a demon. We kit ourselves out and he won’t stand a chance.”

Bobby shrugged,

“If you’re sure.” 

* * *

 

Bobby glanced at Dean one last time for confirmation before dropping the match into the bowl, igniting the ingredients and completing the summoning ritual. Lightning flared across the night sky outside the workshop and the light bulbs within the building shattered simultaneously as a dark voice sounded from the shadows in the far corner of the large room,

“You had better have a _very_ good reason for summoning me,” Bobby and Dean saw the creature glance around, “especially seeing that you seem to have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

He walked so he was standing framed perfectly by the moonlight coming in through the workshop doors. Where there was no other source of illumination in the room, Dean and Bobby could only see him in silhouette whilst he could see them in perfect clarity. The only thing they could tell was that he was humanoid and _very_ tall. He slowly started to walk towards the two hunters. As he did, he indicated the symbols on the floor,

“You do realise that none of these scribbles have any effect on me? You didn’t even get summoning perfectly – you used the Baal Shem version? You messed up a syllable or two – not enough to screw up the summoning, but enough to give me free reign.”

Bobby and Dean glanced worryingly at each other briefly before they picked up their weapons and starting firing all they had at the creature – salt shotgun shells, bronze knives, silver – everything they had, they threw in his direction. Samael stopped a few feet away from the hunters and sighed as his looked down at his clothes,

“You do realise this was my favourite jacket and now it’s full of bullet holes? If you’d actually done your research, you’d know none of that stuff doesn’t come close to hurting me. You do realise that I’m an _archangel_ , don’t you?”

Dean shook his head,

“There’s no such thing as angels.”

Samael cocked his head to one side,

“Why can’t there be Dean? There’s demons and all form of evil, so why wouldn’t there be angels?”

Dean remained quiet, but Samael continued,

“I was the one who pulled you from perdition Dean. Is it that you don’t believe in us, or you don’t believe that good things do happen?”

Dean shook his head,

“If you guys _do_ exist, why haven’t you helped sooner? What, the world falls apart and you sit on clouds playing harps?”

Samael gave a dark laugh,

“It’s all part of the plan. If everything was perfect, then people wouldn’t be thankful for anything. Without loss, there cannot be gain. Without pain, there cannot be joy. Events are in motion that must be stopped, that is why I led an army to pull you from the pit. God has a plan for you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean gave a smirk,

“You’re telling me that I lost my brother years back, but God has a plan for me. What bullshit.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed, Samael glared at Dean,

“You dare speak ill of _God_ in my presence?” Another flash of lightning came from outside, illuminating Samael and projecting the shadow of wings onto the far end of the workshop, “You speak of things you don’t understand to a being you cannot comprehend. I raised you up Dean Winchester, I can cast you back down just as easily.”

Bobby intervened, trying to defuse the situation,

“Look, just ignore Dean here for a moment. We’re obvious very grateful that you brought him back topside, but we’re just trying to work out _why_ you brought him back. You said there’s a plan for him, you mind sharing?”

The angel glanced down for a moment, calming himself down. When his spoke again, it was clear that he was forcing himself to remain pleasant,

“I am not at liberty to divulge that information.”

Bobby bit his lip, they now had everything they had aimed to get out of Samael, but he had one question that he knew Dean would thank him for asking,

“One final question, answer this and we’ll be out of your hair.” The angel nodded for Bobby to continue, “What happened to Dean’s brother – Sam Winchester?”

The angel appeared to think for a moment,

“Samuel Winchester never existed. He was a vulnerability and should never have existed. That has been rectified.”

Bobby looked shocked,

“So he’s dead.”

 “The Samuel Winchester you knew is dead.”

Dean looked a little confused,

“The Sam _I_ knew. So he’s still alive?”

The angel chuckled,

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Can we see him?”

The angel smiled, the flash of teeth visible in the darkness,

“Are you sure you want to do that? Remember, whatever you see, it can’t be changed. Whatever your brother was, that Samuel is gone and he isn’t coming back.”

Dean nodded,

“He’s my brother. I couldn’t care less if he was a vampire, a werewolf, whatever.”

The angel nodded,

“Very well then.”

With a snap of his fingers, the workshop was filled with flickering candles. Bobby and Dean looked around, expecting to see Sam somewhere in the corner, as their gaze turned back to the angel they saw a familiar face. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion,

“Sam?”


	4. History 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this is going to end up being quite a long piece of work, so there will be quite a few 'backstory' chapters like this one before things start moving in interesting directions - I'm going to throw in the odd bit of humour and a little action, but I thought it'd be best to give Sam's story quite early on, rather than having a multi-chapter flashback in the middle of an epic fight scene...
> 
> In regards to the posting of these chapters, I'm aiming for a weekly schedule - I'm currently about 8 chapters ahead of this one in terms of writing, but I'm going to be going away for a while so won't have much time to write (although I will still be posting) - I might post an extra chapter here or there if I surge further ahead, but that's not guaranteed, sorry!

The angel smiled back at him and let his voice slide back into its normal pitch,

“Hello Dean.”

Dean glanced his brother up and down. His new look was nothing like what the old Sam would have worn – tight fitting jeans with heavy black boots, coupled with a white tee and sunglasses perched on his head, all covered in a shin length black leather jacket. Although it was a completely different look to what he was used to, besides the damage from the weapons Bobby and Dean had fired at him, it was a good look for his brother. He gave Sam an impressed smile,

“Nice look. So Samael is Sammy?”

Sam shrugged,

“More like Sammy is Samael.”

Bobby looked slightly confused,

“So what’s the story?”

“I disobeyed – I took steps that I thought were appropriate without checking with my other brothers. As a punishment, I was made to fall – forced to left heaven and became human. That was Samuel. The problem came when Azazel, the yellow-eyed demon, infected him when he was a child and plans were in motion that would have led down a dark road. One of my lieutenants, Castiel, came to find Samuel before the demons’ plans could advance. He came to Samuel whilst he was at Stanford, he returned my grace – the angel part of me that was torn out when I fell – returning my memories and powers and turning Samuel back into Samael.”

Dean blinked,

“So what happened to Sammy’s memories – our childhood, all the time we spent together?’

Sam smiled gently,

“They’re all in here. Some of my best memories – I had experiences that I never would have had as an angel, and I owe it all to you Dean. Being an angel is amazing, being an archangel is even better – I’ve looked upon the face of God, I’ve seen the whole of human history, I looked after my younger brothers as they grew up. Yet we’re expected to obey absolutely – I’ve wiped out entire species before and if I’d even hesitated for a moment, it would be taken as a sign of rebellion. There are thousands of us, but it’s lonely, especially for me – I’ve got a bit of a reputation so most of the host distrust me. If you’ve done your background reading, you’d know I’m one of the darkest angels in the host – I was a double agent during the Fall of the Morningstar, which ended up being _very_ interesting.” He grinned, thinking back over his memories, “Most of the angels that fell with Lucifer still don’t realise that I was acting against them. Most of those that fought the fallen ignore me because of what I had to do to maintain my cover – most of them consider being ordered to work with me a form of punishment. Being Samuel was the first time in a _long_ time that people didn’t judge me – I had people I cared for who cared for me in return. I felt as though I actually fitted in for once.”

Dean looked back at, what he still regarded as, his brother,

“You really mean that? You were happy as a human and lonely when you’re upstairs – isn’t it supposed to be, well, _Heaven_.”

Sam shrugged,

“It’s Heaven for human souls. We’re the soldiers – we never rest and we’re never at peace. If it had been possible, I’d have stayed human, but the consequences would have been disastrous.”

Dean actually felt slightly sorry for the angel, but gave a bit of a laugh,

“What consequences?”

Sam smiled,

“Only the end of the world.”

Dean chuckled,

“Then I’m really glad you took your wings back.” He paused for a moment, “Speaking of which, how did you end up with the gig of getting me out of the pit?”

Sam’s smile diminished by a few teeth,

“I felt it as soon as it happened – I would have come sooner, but there were issues. I requested permission to retrieve you – you are still essentially my brother – and was told to lead a force into Hell to do so. I was told to take volunteers – entering the pit as an angel is exceptionally dangerous – but where very few angels even trust me, I didn’t even get a tenth of the numbers I needed, so I headed in alone.”

Dean paled,

“You what? Wasn’t that basically suicide?”

Sam bit his lip,

“I’ve done it a few times before – I’m still a double agent, so regularly report to whoever is in charge downstairs. I basically went in as normal, but before anyone noticed, I diverted into the pits and pulled you out. I picked up a few injuries from Alistair – that bastard has never trusted me – but it was worth it to get you. I owed you Dean. You gave me a life I haven’t had for millennia, so a couple of scratches is nothing if it meant getting you out.”

Dean wiped away the tear that had slowly rolled down his cheek,

“You really mean that? You risked your life – your existence – for _me_. I must appear like an ant to something like you, what makes me that special?”

Sam snorted slightly, before staring straight into Dean’s eyes,

“Dean, you mean more to me than most of the host. If anything ever happened to me, you’re one of two – _maybe_ three – people I would count on to come and get me no matter what. Why _wouldn’t_ I do the same for you?”

Dean smiled at his brother,

“I love you man, you know that right?” Sam nodded, “Hasn’t this messed up your whole _double agent_ routine though?”

Sam shook his head and gave a short laugh,

“Double agent is a bit of an over simplification. Both sides believe that I’m a double agent for them, so until I reveal my true allegiance, Hell will let me get away with thing like this in the name of maintaining my cover. They’ll be pissed I didn’t warn them, but they won’t be lining up to stick my head on a spike any time soon.”

Dean grinned back at his brother,

“Only you could be smart enough to confuse the majority of both Heaven and Hell as to where your true loyalties lie.”

Sam shrugged,

“Only two beings know the absolute truth – I’m not telling and I don’t think my Father will either.”

Dean shook his head and with a chuckle, punched his brother gently in the shoulder,

“So, besides continuing to confuse the heck out of everyone, what’s on your cards now that you’re a full-blooded angel again?”

“I’ve been ordered to keep you safe. Interpret that as you will.” Sam smiled, “There might be a few times when I have to go off for one reason or another. When that happens, Castiel will be keeping an eye on you for me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow,

“You do realise that I’m going to keep hunting, right? You’re good with keeping me safe when I’m hunting?”

Sam nodded,

“Those are my orders.” He slowed down his speech for emphasis, “How I follow them is open to interpretation though.”

Dean thought about what Sam was saying,

“Are you saying that if I ask you to, you’ll join me on hunts?”

Sam smiled,

“I was hoping you’d ask that – I miss hanging out with you and compared to Samuel, I’m much more suited for hunting. I’ve got a bag of tricks that’ll come in handy and I’ve got a couple of millennia of experience in warfare which will give me an advantage.”

Dean gave a laugh,

“You saying you’re better than me at this?”

Sam shrugged,

“Hey, it’s not my fault that I’ve been on the front lines of several major heavenly conflicts. I’ve also spent quite a bit of time here on Earth – it being the only place where angels and demons are seen together with any frequency.”

Bobby moved back towards the two Winchesters, having backed away somewhat when Sam had revealed himself to give Dean some privacy with his brother. He coughed lightly to draw the angel’s attention,

“Sam, since you’ve clearly been around a bit, do you think you could give me a hand with some of my translations?”

Sam shrugged,

“Can’t see any harm in it.” He gave a bashful smile, “You’ll have to excuse me if my Archaic Chinese is somewhat off though, I spent most of my time in Rome during that era. I took a trip or two across, so I can make my way through the basics, but I might be a bit rusty on the more obscure parts of the language.”

Bobby gave a quick laugh,

“I’m sure your language skills are much better than mine.”

Sam blushed,

“I’ve been around a long time. You’ll have to excuse me if I chuckle at some of the history though – no matter how good the book, they always seem to get it from a different angle to how it genuinely was.”

Dean glanced at his brother, realising that this was a good a time as any to bring up what they _had_ read about Samael,

“Uh Sam – I’m guessing it was all part of your cover – but from what me and Bobby read about you, there’s things you’ve apparently done that don’t by a long short see very, well, _angelic_. Some books even seem to indicate you’re basically a demon – how much of that is accurate?”

His brother gave a mysterious smile,

“I was created to try people, I seduce and tempt to test their faith, but I’m not downright evil. Most of the stuff you read is about the bad shit I pulled – I was the one who tempted Eve in Eden and I was the one who Lucifer turned to for help when he created the first demon. That’s one of the reasons why I was accepted so easily into his camp – many saw what I had done to be as great a sin as what he had done. It was all a test of the pride of the Morningstar though, so everything I did was technically above board, which I wasn’t locked up with him. I tread a very fine line, but that is why I was created.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I thought angels would be all harps, clouds and halos.”

Sam smirked,

“Yeah, they seem to love to skip the whole dark side thing. I’m also slightly disappointed that they mostly ignore some of the more human things we’ve done – especially the sex.”

Dean perked up at the mention of one of his four favourite things – the others being his family, the Impala and pie,

“Sex?”

Sam smiled,

“Thought that’d get your attention. Basic story is, God loved humans more than angels – so we obviously do too.” He looked embarrassed, “Some of us – _possibly_ including myself – took that slightly too literally in the beginning.”

“Go on.”

“Yeah, so, um, Adam’s first wife and the one Lucifer corrupted into the first demon – we kinda had a thing before my brother twisted her. There was also the whole _apple_ thing with Eve – huge metaphor by the way, if you know what I mean – still not sure if Cain ended up being one of mine or not.” Sam started to look embarrassed as he continued, “The _sex as a form of worship_ phase – that might also have been my fault, as is the existence of succubi.” He caught the look of shook on Dean and Bobby’s faces and let out a snort, “Hey, it’s not my fault. I can’t really help it that most of the humans and angels who had a thing for me ended up setting up shop on Lucifer’s side because they thought they’d have another shot with me.”

Sam fell silent and could see the two men struggling to keep straight faces. It was Dean who cracked first though, bursting out in laughter. He grabbed his brother into a hug as he shook his head,

“There was me thinking _I_ was the one with the huge ego when it came to my sex life. While it turns out all along –“ Dean burst into another round of laughter, “It turns out all along that some of the oldest demons in Hell are a result of you thinking too much with your downstairs brain.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably,

“It’s not as though I planned it.”

Dean grinned at his brother,

“I know you didn’t Sammy – but I’ve got to say I’m impressed, makes for a damn good chat-up line – _‘Hey, are you an angel? ‘cause if you are I’ll have you working for the Devil by the time I’m done.’_ ”

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled,

“Nice line Dean, but I think I’ll pass – I learned my lesson a long time back.”


	5. Dinner Conversation

As in the barn, Bobby left the two Winchesters alone for most of the rest of the day, only interrupting to point out to Sam which passages he needed help translating. For the most part however, Dean and his brother sat on the front porch with a case of beers, sharing stories – the majority of Dean’s being about what had happened after Sam had disappeared, while Sam’s were a collection of amusing anecdotes about things he’d seen and done as an angel. As Sam was an angel, the alcohol in the beer had barely an effect – he’d basically have had to drink the elder hunter dry before he even felt anything – something that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean, who after his fourth beer had insisted that his brother fly off and get a couple crates of communion wine. He argued that whichever church his brother visited should be _so friggin’ proud that they had an archangel visit that they shouldn’t give a flying fuck about the wine_. When Sam returned several moments later with over a hundred bottles of the stuff, he refused to mention where he’d got it from, preferring to leave Dean to make his own conclusions from the fancy looking labels on each bottle of Italian red. At his brother’s insistence, Sam matched even bottle of beer Dean drunk with six bottles of the classy looking wine – which looked decisively less classy when it was drunk from the bottle itself by a tipsy archangel. The more the two brothers drank, the more outrageous their stories got,

“You know that mad emperor – Caligula?” Sam slurred, “That story about him making his horse a consul – completely true.” Dean snorted, “I had to give my blessings to that twit, being one of the patrons of the Roman Empire. I barely made it though the ceremony without cracking up.” He raised his hands defensively, “Being fair though, most of that was Mars’ fault.”

Dean raised a suspicious eyebrow drunkenly,

“Really Sammy?”

Sam sighed,

“OK, it _might_ have been retaliation after I pointed out that my set of fratricidal kids didn’t depict their deities in stupid costumes, to which he responded that at least he wasn’t shown with feathers and a broken Frisbee on his head.”

Dean burst out laughing, spurting beer everywhere, loving the description of the standard depiction of angels. Sam snapped his fingers and suddenly resembled the classic angel look,

“What, you don’t think this looks dignified?” he asked with a drunken smile, before returning to his normal ‘casual rock star’ look before Dean passed out with laughter, “Damn artists, they really should do their research before depicting things so literally. I mean yeah, we have wings – but they’re not actually _physical_ , they’re more metaphysical blah-blah-blah science.”

Dean rolled his eyes,

“Blah-blah-blah science? You don’t really know do you?”

Sam pouted,

“I do. It’s something to do with the fact that angels are multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent.” He caught Dean’s eyes and sighed, “Alright, I don’t have a fucking clue. It just works.”

Dean chuckled at the expression on Sam’s face, before standing and heading into the house as Bobby called them for dinner.

Bobby glanced at Sam when he sat down at the table,

“Didn’t realise you still needed to eat.”

Sam shrugged, before focusing on his words so as not to appear too drunk in front of the older hunter,

“I don’t _need_ to eat. I still can though – just doesn’t really do anything. If I wanted to I could eat pie all day, every day and I wouldn’t put on a pound.” He turned to smirk at Dean, who looked insanely jealous, “Same reason Bobby’s got a couple dozen wine bottles to recycle – gotta love that angelic metabolism.”

Bobby smiled at the younger – or was it older? – Winchester,

“You gonna make us say grace now that you’ve got your wings?”

Sam grinned back,

“You do realise you could just ask me if you need anything? I am right here and don’t have millions of other prayers fluttering around my head. Regarding the whole _being thankful_ aspect – He knows already. Everything you see, He created for you. You’re His favourites – He doesn’t need you guys constantly thanking Him.”

Dean looked across at his brother,

“Well I know I’ve got a lot to be thankful for – I’m outta the pit and I got my little bro’ back.”

Bobby rolled his eyes,

“I’m just glad to get both you idjits back, but the food’s getting cold, so can we stow the touchy-feely stuff for a moment.”

The two Winchesters smiled at the man they considered part of the family, even if not by blood, before digging in.

Waving a forkful of salad as he spoke, Sam questioned the two others,

“You thought what you’re gonna tell Dad – by which I mean John-Dad not upstairs-Dad.”

Bobby snorted slightly,

“Upstairs-Dad? Love to see what Pastor Jim would think of an angel calling God that.”

Sam groaned slightly,

“I blame the communion wine. Just don’t get me started on my collection of nicknames for some of the other angels. Speaking of which,” he waved the fork in Dean’s direction, “thanks to you, some of my brothers have started calling me Sammy.” Dean gave a snort, before Sam continued, “Sammy is a chubby twelve year old kid. I’m a friggin’ archangel – it’s really not dignified.”

Dean clapped his hand onto his brother’s back,

“You know you love it bitch.”

Sam rolled his eyes,

“Shut it jerk.”

Bobby chuckled at how much like a little brother the archangel still sounded,

“I’m not sure what you’re gonna say to John, but I don’t think Dean’s told his old man that he’s back from downstairs. However you’re gonna do this, it might be an idea for me to be around to stop him filling both your asses with buckshot.”

Sam grinned,

“Might be an idea Bobby, I’d rather not have to replace my jacket again.”

Bobby looked slightly guilty,

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that – but y’know, your entrance wasn’t exactly reassuring.”

Sam waved a hand dismissively,

“It’s not really an issue. As an archangel, I’ve got buckets of power, fixing a couple of bullet holes in a coat is more of a minor inconvenience than an actual annoyance. Being honest, it was worth it – how many times am I gonna get to see Dean looking that scared.”

Dean sighed, feeling somewhat annoyed,

“You’re telling me that you decided to almost give me a heart attack just for a joke.”

Sam snorted,

“Makes up for the amount of jokes _you_ pulled when we were growing up.”

“Like what?”

“Well there was the time you put Nair in my shampoo –“

“Not fair!” Dean interrupted, “That was part of a prank war, we decided that issue was closed years back.”

Sam stared at his brother,

“I put itching powder in your shirt, you made me look as though I was losing my hair. I think I deserve a little sympathy.”

Dean sighed,

“Fine, I won’t take any revenge _this time_. Still doesn’t solve what we’re gonna tell Dad.”

Sam shrugged,

“I could always go all _messenger of the Lord_ on him and tell him to come here to Bobby’s.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, unconvinced,

“Since when did Dad take orders from _anyone_ – let alone something that’s outright admitting it’s not human.” He glanced at Sam, “No offence.”

Sam shrugged,

“None taken, it is the truth. In which case, plan B might be better.”

Dean sighed – in the past most of the their backup plans were somewhat reckless,

“Why am I thinking I won’t like this plan?”

His brother laughed,

“Relax, I’m not gonna do anything _too_ dramatic. I’ll just use my mojo to work out where he is, then the three of us can take the angel express to his motel room.”

“Angel express?”

Sam grinned darkly, knowing his brother’s biggest fear,

“Just because my wings aren’t physical doesn’t mean I can’t fly.”


	6. A Man with a Plan

Dean gulped and looked at his brother nervously. Sam smiled back reassuringly,

“It’s not actual flying – I just grab you, flicker into my true form for a split second, then we’ll reappear where we need to be.”

Dean looked unconvinced,

“No being dangled from a great height?”

Sam shook his head,

“Nope. As with a lot of talk about us, most of the descriptions of our abilities are complete bollocks. However, the names stick – and ‘flying’ sounds a lot cooler than ‘cross-dimensional reality warping’ wouldn’t you say?”

Dean shrugged,

“I guess. How long’ll it take you to track down Dad?”

“He’s not warded, so a couple of hours – I can do it overnight.” He caught the look Bobby was giving him, “Yeah, sleep is another thing we don’t need. Being honest, angels don’t really need much – it’s probably easier if I just tell you at some point the few things we _do_ need rather than explaining all the things we don’t.”

Dean gave his brother a sad smile,

“You’re telling me most of the things that make life enjoyable are optional extras for you.”

His brother shrugged,

“We make our own fun – one of my brothers gets his kicks outta running around being Loki and pulling practical jokes. Another had spent centuries collecting and reading all the human literature he can get his hands on. I get my enjoyment outta carrying out my cover missions and generally messing around throughout human history.” Dean looked unimpressed, “What? You’re telling me that you wouldn’t have gotten a laugh outta going all _avenging angel_ on Hitler just before he went and redecorated the room in red?”

Dean chuckled,

“Alright, I’ll admit, that’d been quite funny.”

Bobby shooed the two boys into the lounge as he set about cleaning up the table. Sam stayed back and insisted that he could help, but Bobby just rolled his eyes,

“Go talk some more with your brother ya idjit. He hasn’t seen you for years and has missed playing the role of big brother. He was hurting something terrible after you up and vanished – just being around you is helping him heal that hurt.”

Sam looked guilty before nodding and followed in his brother’s footsteps to the couch in front of the decrepit television, where Dean was flicking through the channels, looking for something good to watch. Crashing onto the cushion and letting himself sink into the material, he gave his brother a grin and held out his hand,

“Five Bucks says Dad’ll try to shoot both of us at least once when we go see him.”

Dean shook his head, ignoring Sam’s waggling fingers,

“No bet. Even if Bobby goes in first to warn him, he’s not gonna roll over and accept that I’m back from the pit. As for you Sammy,” Dean grinned and shook his head, “I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t try and kill you in some way, especially when he finds out about the wings.”

Sam shrugged,

“Not like it can actually _do_ anything – it’s pretty hard to hurt an archangel, let alone kill one.”

Dean suddenly looked worried,

“Shit Sammy, Dad might’a got the Colt back and working whilst I was downstairs – that gun can kill anything supernatural. I’m not talking _send to Hell_ dead, I’m talking _dead_ dead.”

Sam chuckled,

“Good job I’m immune then.”

Dean blinked,

“What?”

“There’s five things in the whole of creation that gun can’t kill – archangels are on that list.”

Dean looked relieved,

“That’s good to know – don’t really want to get you back only for Dad to do that.”

Sam chuckled,

“I don’t think Colt himself knew that it can’t kill us, but I gave him a hand with the design and had a bit of a tinker with its capabilities.”

“What are the other four?”

“Huh?”

“The other four things it can’t kill – what are they?”

Sam shrugged,

“Nothing you’ll ever need to worry about.”

Dean’s voice grew serious,

“I still wanna know. Just in case.”

Sam sighed and supplied the information Dean wanted,

“It’s got no chance again Leviathans – but they’ve been sealed away since before even angels were created. The Horsemen of the Apocalypse are also immune – but if they turn up, we’ve got bigger problems, mostly in the form of two of my brothers having a punch-up.” He looked sad for a moment as he reflected, “Family squabbles upstairs make anything we went through look like a walk in the park.” Sam fell silent for another few seconds before continuing the list, “It also won’t kill a Knight of Hell – but they’ve been dealt with already. It’s also got no chance against Cambions – the spawn of human and demon – but even I’m running if we come across one of those.”

He glanced at Dean who had paled dramatically as Sam had continued his list of creatures Dean _never_ wanted to meet,

“As I said, the odds on us coming across any of those things are non-existent. It also won’t work on things from outside creation – gods, deities and so forth.”

Dean grinned slightly,

“So the _kill everything supernatural_ gun does not, in fact, kill everything supernatural?”

Sam shrugged,

“It kills enough. Anyway, it _shouldn’t_ be able to kill everything – no man should be able to wield that much power. Hell, even archangels can only kill one or two more things than that gun and our orders come from God.”

Silence descended on the room as Dean reflected on his brother’s words. After a few minutes he fielded a question,

“How do you know His orders are just?”

Sam blinked in shock and took several moments to contemplate his answer,

“He’s God – why would they not be just?”

Dean shrugged,

“Why would they be? What makes you so sure that He is just?”

Sam looked unsure as to how to answer, but answered honestly,

“I have faith. That’s all I need.”

Dean looked unconvinced, but accepted Sam’s answer and fell silent. After several minutes, Sam felt uncomfortable,

“Look Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t come and see you after I got my wings back – it’s just I was terrified. You were one of the few people who _didn’t_ judge me and that I have good memories of – I was scared that if I revealed myself, you’d have sent me away or ignored me like everyone else has. I wanted to remember you as my big brother who loved me no matter what – if you’d treated me differently, that image would’ve been ruined.” Dean didn’t reply so Sam tried again, “I really am sorry Dean, but try to see it from my point of view.”

Dean turned to Sam, angry,

“Your point of view? What about my point of view? We thought you were _dead_ Sam – I thought I’d let you down and allowed some monster, or worse, the yellow-eyed demon to get you. I missed you Sammy, I thought you were gone forever, and it turns out you’ve been alive all along.” He glanced over at his brother who was meekly curling into himself. Taking a breath to calm himself, Dean let his voice return to its normal volume, “I’m sorry Sammy, I’m not really blaming you – I can see why you didn’t return. Being honest, I can’t say I’d not have done the same. It’s just with everything that’s happened in the last day or so – getting sprung from the pit by my little brother who’s not only alive, but a friggin’ archangel – it’s a lot to take in.”

Sam bit his lip and nodded understandingly,

“If you wanna crash, don’t feel as though you’ve gotta stay up for me – it’s not as though the time makes any difference to me. I bet Bobby’s still got our normal room ready for us – you get some sleep, I’ll keep my eye on you while I look for Dad.”

Dean smiled as he stood,

“Sounds like a plan Sammy.”


	7. The First Stage of Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay - I've started a rail journey around North America and basically lost Monday to travelling and most of Tuesday to settling in. Sorry.

As Dean left the small bathroom, Sam headed in, hoping that his brother wouldn’t pick up on the fact that the archangel didn’t really have any need for the room. Closing the door, he shrugged off his leather overcoat and removed his T-shirt and studied the bandages that covered his shoulder and left arm. With a grimace, he noted that the formerly pristine cloth that covered the wounds Alistair had inflicted when he had rescued Dean from the pit was now badly stained and would need replacing. Unwrapping the dressings, he gave a slight groan as he noticed that the wounds were still infected with hellfire, thus negating any healing effects that his grace would have on them. Realising that he would have to wash them out with Holy Water again, he tried to think of the best method of doing so, taking into account the wounds on his back. Concluding that it was his best option, Sam blessed the shower with a wave of his hand. While he waited for it to run hot, he briefly considered what Bobby would say when the older hunter realised that he now had a shower that gave out Holy Water, but concluded that it was more likely to be seen as a positive rather than a negative.

As he placed his arm under the spray to judge the temperature, the blessed water entered the wounds and Sam couldn’t help give a moan of discomfort as the hellfire sizzled with the contact. A concerned voice drifted through the door,

“You alright Sammy?”

Sam withdrew the arm so as to remove the tension from his voice,

“’m fine Dean.”

Dean grunted as he continued to get into bed, Sam once again ventured under the spray – this time managing to completely immerse himself in the downpour before the sizzle of hellfire caused him to stumble in pain and cry out. The door to the bathroom burst open and Dean gazed in at his little brother leaning under the spray of water with smoke emanating from his flesh. Spotting the wounds on his brother, he let out a cry of alarm. Reaching into the shower, he moved to pull Sam out of the spray, but Sam shook his head. Worried, Dean asked,

“God Sammy, what the fuck is this?”

Sam whimpered from within the shower as Dean leant in and steadied his younger brother,

“Alistair.”

“This is what you called a couple a’scratches?” Sam nodded meekly before Dean continued, “Why can’t you heal yourself? I thought angels could do that kinda thing.”

Sam nodded,

“Normally.”

“What’s stopping you –,“ Dean spotted the glow within the wounds, “Is this what’s stopping you? What is it Sammy?”

Sam shuddered and whispered the answer under his breath, knowing the effect it would have on his brother,

“Hellfire.”

“Fuck Sammy, why didn’t you say anything?”

Sam attempted a grin,

“Didn’t want to worry you.”

“Why’s it reacting so badly to the water?” Dean paused for a moment before realising where he’d seen a similar reaction before, “Did you bless the shower Sammy?”

Sam nodded,

“Seemed easier.”

Dean chuckled,

“Guess that kinda thing is old hat to you.”

Sam shrugged, as the hellfire washed out the pain had diminished and the wounds began to close,

“Blessing water? Sure. Blessing a shower? Never done that before.”

Dean smiled and shook his head at his brother,

“You really love being that little bit different don’t you?”

Sam gave a chuckle,

“I work with what I got. At least now if Bobby gets any demonic guests, he can just offer them a refreshing wash before they head back downstairs.”

Dean laughed at his brother as he retreated out of the spray and dried himself with a click of his fingers, leaving him behind with nothing more than faint pink scars. Now that most of the damage down by his trip to hell had been cleaned up, Dean noticed two faint red lines running down his brother’s back on either side of his spine. Dean gestured toward them,

“Where did you pick those up Sammy?”

Sam glanced over his shoulder to see what Dean was indicating,

“Oh those,” he grinned at his brother, “They’re where my wings come out.”

Dean looked slightly confused as Sam picked up his clothes and headed back towards the bedroom,

“I thought you said they weren’t physical?”

Sam’s lips twitched into a slight smile,

“Just because they aren’t physical doesn’t mean they don’t attach anywhere. They’ve also gotta come out of somewhere when I go for the whole avenging warrior look.”

“Can I –,” he gestured at Sam’s back, “Can I see them again?”

Sam shrugged nonchalantly before rolling his shoulders and whipping out his wings, spanning the entire width of the bedroom, even without being fully extended. Dean reached out a hand to touch the black feathered appendages, but was highly surprised when his fingers passed straight through the 40 foot span as though it was made of nothing more than smoke. Although there was no discernible texture to the wings, the boundary between his brother’s wing and his wrist tickled Dean’s skin as though the feathers were physically brushing against him.

Dean stroked his hand through the wing, finding it difficult to stop himself from laughing as the immaterial feathers moved against his skin.  Sam chuckled when he saw his brother’s expression as he stared at the wings before he folded them up, rushing over the surface of Dean’s hand as they retreated back under his skin. He put on his _older brother_ voice, which he’d perfected looking after the younger angels,

“Now Dean, don’t play with your brother’s wings too much – you’ll end up with feathered hands.”

Dean chuckled,

“That you trying to be the older brother? You really need to work on the voice.”

Sam grinned,

“Works better when I give them a whack from one of my wingtips. I can make them corporeal up there, or as corporeal as you can get from a non-physical entity. Still smarts though, so it’s effective.”

Dean laughed as he climbed into his bed,

“Nice to see the age old brotherly techniques are in use upstairs.”

Although he didn’t actually need to sleep, Sam climbed into the bed on the other side of the room as it would allow him to keep an eye on his brother whilst he searched for John.  He smiled back at his brother,

“I’ve spent enough time round you guys that I know a good idea when I see one. The large wingspan also helps – they’re less likely to see it coming.”

Dean sniggered as he switched off the light, picturing Sam slapping a younger angel around the head with his wings,

“Night Sammy.”

“Night Dean.”

 

By the early hours of the morning, Sam had scoured the majority of the country for their father, narrowing his location down to somewhere in Indiana. However, he had put his search on hold as his brother had started to whimper in his sleep. By the sounds his brother was making, Sam guessed that Dean was reliving some of his memories of Hell. Climbing into the bed next to his brother, he placed his fingers on Dean’s forehead, drawing away the painful images assaulting his brother’s subconscious. Before he could return to his own bed Dean, now free of his thoughts of his time in the pit, shifted slightly and ended up sprawled facing his brother, arms loosely wrapped around the archangel as though he was nothing more than an oversized cuddly toy. Rather than wake his brother by trying to extract himself, Sam let out his wings and wrapped them around the older Winchester, cocooning him in their protective embrace.

When he was satisfied that his brother’s mind had calmed and that he was sleeping soundly, Sam returned to his search for John. Finding their father just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, Sam let his mind relax as he waited for the two hunters to wake.


	8. Finding John

As Dean woke the next morning, he blinked with shock as he realised he was practically hugging his younger brother to his chest. Sam gave a slight cough and gestured downwards,

“Uh, Dean?”

Dean realised his morning glory was poking his brother in the leg and quickly withdrew his arms from around his brother, allowing the archangel to escape out of the bed. Dean gave Sam an embarrassed grin,

“Can we forget this happened and never talk about it again?”

Sam rolled his eyes,

“Like I want to be reminded that you treated my millennia old ass like a friggin’ teddy bear? Or that I had to spend a considerable time with _that_ prodding me.”

Dean turned somewhat red,

“Yeah, forgetting that kinda thing would be awesome.”

Sam chuckled,

“I think I can do that, but you owe me one.”

“I think I probably owe you much more than one.” He chuckled as he rolled out of bed, “Did you manage to find Dad?”

Sam nodded,

“Room 12, Happi-Sleeperz Motel, Auburn, Indiana.”

“What you thinking?”

The younger Winchester shrugged,

“Send Bobby in first and get him to hide all of Dad’s guns and knives. Then you head in – I’ll keep an eye on you and pull you out if Dad starts getting itchy fingers – your story is a lot more believable.”

Dean raised an eyebrow,

“Returning from Hell is believable?”

Sam grinned,

“It’s much more believable than me being an archangel.”

Dean chuckled,

“I see your point.”

“Well assuming Dad doesn’t put you into the hospital, that’s when I’ll stick my head around the door and hope that he doesn’t blast my wings off.”

Dean slapped his brother in the shoulder,

“I’m guessing you don’t wanna have to pick another load of buckshot outta your skin.”

Sam gave a quick laugh,

“I’ve got a feeling that I’ll end up with Dad sticking some kinda weapon in me – iron buckshot, silver knife, whatever.”

Dean grinned at his brother,

“I’m kinda looking forward to Dad’s reaction – but please make sure you’re on hand to pull me out if I’m the one who gets the gun aimed at his head.”

Sam smirked,

“Yeah, I’d rather not have to pull your sorry ass back to the mortal plane again – pulling your fat ass through the veil kinda takes it out of you.”

Dean faked insult as he threw on his shirts and jeans, being careful to avoid irritating the brand in the shape of Sam’s handprint on his shoulder,

“Fat? This ass is a masterpiece – drives the girls wild.”

Sam snorted as he clicked his fingers and dressed himself in a clean and fresh version of his angelic outfit,

“You keep telling yourself that – based on experience, mine’s the one that makes _everyone_ go crazy.”

Dean shook his head as the two Winchesters headed down into Bobby’s kitchen. While they waited for Bobby, Sam flew off for a couple of moments, before returning with three cups of steaming coffee. Dean took a sip of his before raising an eyebrow at Sam,

“This is _amazing_ – where the fuck did you pick this up?”

Sam grinned and shrugged nonchalantly,

“Little village in the southern Ethiopian Highlands. Really nice man there – Solomon – who has always been happy to give me a couple of cups after I saved his village from a demon a couple of decades back.”

A gruff voice came from the doorway,

“It seems like half the planet owes you one.”

Sam looked over at Bobby and slid the older hunter’s coffee mug across the table towards him,

“Hey, I very rarely call them in, but I thought you guys could do with some decent coffee for once, especially seeing that we’re gonna have to fly soon to catch John before he heads out.”

When the three hunters had drained their gourmet coffee, Bobby glanced at Dean,

“You ready to see you Dad again?”

Dean flashed a quick smile,

“Ignoring the potential issue of my own father trying to kill me or Sam, I can’t wait.”

Sam dropped his mug into the sink,

“You two ready to go?”

Dean and Bobby nodded and Sam stepped forward and grabbed them by their arms. He whipped out his wings and flickered into his true form. Before Dean or Bobby noticed, they had arrived at their destination and Sam returned to his physical form. Dean looked slightly puzzled as he glanced around the car park in front of the motel,

“That was it?”

Sam chuckled,

“Told you that you wouldn’t notice – I was tempted to drop you in flight, but thought that would be kinda mean.”

Dean paled slightly,

“You wouldn’t have dared.”

Sam grinned evilly,

“I’d have caught you before any damage was done.”

Bobby shook his head,

“Will you two idjits shut up before John spots us and comes at us with a bucket of guns.”

Sam gestured towards the Winchester patriarch’s room,

“I think if Dean hides out here until you’ve prepared Dad, that’ll probably be best. I’ll monitor the situation from inside – I can flicker out of the visible spectrum and can stay that way until John’s got over the shock that Dean’s back.” He grinned, “If anyone’s got a camera, I’d love to capture his reaction when I appear.”

Dean shook his head at his brother,

“You ready to get this show on the road?”

Sam and Bobby nodded before Sam flickered and disappeared. Bobby left Dean crouching behind a car whilst he headed towards the door of John’s room. Raising his fist, he knocked on the motel door. The door opened inwards cautiously,

“Bobby? Whatcha doing here?”

Bobby scratched at his head,

“Uh, I’ve got a bit of information for you regarding Dean. I heard you were out here, so I thought I’d drop in and tell you in person.”

John raised an eyebrow in interest, before opening the door fully and welcoming Bobby into the room. Bobby had passed the standard hunter’s welcome tests and seated himself on the end of the bed, John looked at him expectantly,

“So, what you got? Found out which demon sent my boy downstairs?”

Bobby grinned,

“I’ve got something better.” John looked intrigued, so Bobby continued, “I found a way to get him out.”

John blinked in shock,

“How did you find that? I’ve never heard of anyone being pulled out without some kinda demon deal – if that isn’t what you’ve found, what’s the cost?”

Bobby grinned,

“Nothing as far as I can tell, but you have to deal with some phenomenally powerful creatures that are almost impossible to summon, let alone bind.”

“So dangerous?”

 “Kinda. Really depends on how much they like you.”

“What sorta creature are we talking about here?”

Bobby bit his lip,

“Angel.”

John frowned,

“Angel? As in harps, halos and the whole God thing?”

“That’s the traditional image, yeah.”

John sounded unconvinced,

“They exist?”

Bobby nodded,

“There’s a hell of a lot of lore on them, more than pretty much anything else supernatural. Why shouldn’t they exist?”

“Why should they? I’ve seen no sign that they _do_ exist – I lost my wife, then Sam and now Dean. Where were angels when that happened? Where was God?”

Bobby shrugged,

“I’m guessing you won’t subscribe to the _mysterious ways_ spiel?” John chuckled and Bobby grinned, “Thought not.”

John sighed,

“OK, let’s pretend for a moment that you’re right and that they do exist. How would we get one to work with us?”

Bobby coughed nervously,

“I’ll cover that a bit later. There’s something I think you should see first – it’s outside, but you’ve got to promise me you’re not gonna go shoot up the place when I show you.”

John looked reluctant, but followed the hunter that had mentored him outside into the parking lot. Keeping John next to him, Bobby stood outside the room door and whistled loudly. At the sound, Dean stood from behind the car and gave a nervous grin at his father,

“Hi Dad.”


	9. Family Reunion

John looked absolutely flabbergasted,

“Dean? How – How did you get out?”

Dean grinned,

“I’m guessing Bobby said there was a way out. I bet he didn’t say that I’d already gotten out.”

John’s hand twitched towards his pistol, but before he could reach for it, Bobby put out his arm,

“I’ve tested him John – silver, Holy Water, salt, the works. It _is_ Dean.”

John’s hand fell still,

“What – what got you out?”

Dean glanced at Bobby before returning his gaze to his father,

“That’s a conversation I think we should have inside.”

Dean walked towards his father, giving the elder Winchester a tight hug, which John returned in a state of shock. The three hunters headed into John’s room, Bobby and Dean giving each other a worried glance as they both thought of how John was going to react to Sam – if he reacted as he had to Dean it would be really easy, however considering that John was now on edge, they both felt that was unlikely. As Bobby closed the door, Sam flickered back into the visible range, appearing in the shadows as he had with Bobby and Dean. John jumped with shock, firing off a shot in the direction of his younger son before the two others wrestled the gun out of his hand. Gesturing in Sam’s direction, Bobby coughed lightly,

“This is the angel – archangel, even – who pulled Dean outta the pit. He’s one of the more rebellious angels, but he’s on our side.” He gestured towards John, introducing him as would have been expected if Sam wasn’t someone John already knew, “Samael, this is Dean’s father.”

Sam flashed a grin that cut through the shadows before nodding respectively. John’s voice was full of awe as he spoke, with an undertone of embarrassment,

“Sorry about the bullet, but as I’m sure Dean’s told you, I was a marine so I often act on impulse.”

Sam replied, using the same voice he had originally used in the barn,

“You should’ve seen your son’s reaction. Benefit of being an angel – human weapons have no effect on me.”

“I’m guessing I should thank you for pulling my son outta Hell – he went there to save me as I’m sure you know.”

Sam nodded,

“I was partially under orders, but my main reasons for doing so were personal, so there isn’t really a reason to thank me.”

“I still want to – it means a lot to me.”

Sam shrugged before stepping out of the shadows and returning his voice to normal,

“Means a heck of a lot to me too.”

He struggled to get a straight face, as did Bobby and his brother, in reaction to the range of emotions crossing his Dad’s face. Eventually, John whispered his youngest son’s name, as though if he spoke any louder he would disappear,

“Sam?”

Sam grinned wildly,

“Hi Dad.”

John collapsed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Dean chuckled,

“Bit of a shocking start to the day, wouldn’t you say Dad?”

John gestured towards Sam questioningly,

“You’re an angel? How the Hell did that happen – you get some wings glued on when you disappeared from Stanford?”

Sam shrugged,

“More like I got my wings back. The Sam you knew was the result of a disagreement upstairs that stripped me of my wings and my memories. I was given them back when it was deemed too dangerous to stay as Sam.”

“I’m guessing you’re talking about the demon blood?” A flash of surprise crossed the angel’s face, but Sam nodded, “Has it gone now?"

“Not entirely, but it’s basically been cancelled out.”

“You really are an angel – wings and all?”

Sam rolled his eyes and partially unfolded his wings until they spanned the width of the motel room. John looked impressed at the size of them. He chuckled,

“They’re pretty big.”

Sam grinned,

“Archangels’ wings are some of the biggest in the host, but mine are almost abnormally large – just over twelve metres or forty feet. Kinda suits my height, wouldn’t you say?”

His Dad glanced him up and down and grinned,

“Not really sure what I make of your get up – hardly that angelic. There’s also your hair – I still think it’s too long.”

Sam chuckled at his Dad trying to give him advice, even though he was no longer human,

“If you think my outfit is bad, you should see some of the other angels – one of my brothers spent a couple of years in a business suit, another spent a decade or so in a cardigan. I’ve spend a century or so in itchy woollen robes and curls – trust me, this look is much better.”

Dean snorted with laughter as he addressed his Dad,

“I think you’ve got to admit that this is a much better look for Sammy than that.”

John sighed,

“I guess you’re –,” Sam raised a fist and the room fell silent,

The three hunters looked at him expectantly. He pointed outside before mouthing _demons_ and sliding a blade out of his sleeve. As Sam disappeared almost silently, the three other hunters moved towards the window – they would have joined Sam, but between his indications of the number of demons and the level of confidence he displayed, they felt that they would have been more a hindrance than a help. Dean whispered to the other two,

“Sam mentioned that the heavenly training manual comes with a few tricks that we won’t have seen before. I don’t know about you, but I’m really interested in seeing an angel in combat – even if it is Sammy.”

John and Bobby grinned as they stared out of the window, waiting for something to happen. Bobby was the first to spot the possessed humans approaching the motel. As they got closer, Sam appeared in the middle of the parking lot, standing in a very provocative position, blade clearly visible off to the side of his body. They couldn’t hear the challenge Sam issued, but the message was clear – _come and get me you sons of bitches._

 

Sam glared at the approaching demons,

“If you know what’s good for you’ll turn around, smoke out and leave.”

The leading demon smirked at Sam,

“I don’t think so Samael, Alistair wants his favourite student back. You, he doesn’t care about – in fact, hurting you is encouraged.”

Sam smirked back as he spun his blade around ready for attack,

“Bring it on you bastards!”

As if given a simultaneous silent command, the five demons launched themselves in Sam’s direction. Sighing at them, Sam launched  himself into the air with a slight flash of his wings, leather coat billowing around him dramatically. Deciding to take out the leader first, Sam slammed down on top of him, his weight pinning the demon’s meatsuit to the ground whilst he quickly smote it in a flash of white light, regretting the fact that he wasn’t able to save the soul trapped by the demon. He glanced up and grinned darkly,

“Who’s next?”

Sensing two demons behind him, he spun around, slashing with his blade and burning out the two demons. He smirked at the remaining two, taunting them,

“Are you guys even trying?”

The two demons froze, nervous that they’d lost three of their colleagues without so much as scratching the archangel. Using their indecision against them, Sam threw his blade towards one of the demons, whilst he launched himself in the direction of the other, hand outstretched and ready to smite. Before they could react, both had been annihilated. Grinning, he stood and with a tug, pulled his blade out of the demon’s throat and moved back into the motel room, wiping off the blade and returning it to its standard position up his sleeve. He grinned at the three hunters who were now staring at him,

“Impressed?”

Dean shook his head at his brother,

“Fuck Sammy that was so sweet it was almost _art_.”

John, as always, liked to point out, what he called, areas for improvement,

“You really shouldn’t have thrown away your weapon though – I’ve seen that sorta thing end _very_ badly.”

Sam shrugged,

“Seemed the right call at the time. It was a calculated risk, but paid off.”

Bobby was more intrigued by the blade Sam had been using,

“What the _Hell_ is that knife you’ve been using? The only thing I’ve ever heard of that can outright kill a demon is Colt’s revolver. The smiting I get, but that blade – where the fuck did you get that?”

Sam grinned before withdrawing the weapon once more,

“Archangel blade. All angels carry one, but the archangel ones are special. Pretty much one of the only things that can kill us – although you’ll have a hard time getting your hands on one – there’s exactly one for each of us and we _really_ don’t like giving them up. Normal angel blades are easier to get your hands on as, due to several deaths within the host during the last heavenly war, there’s a few spares. They’re all accounted for though - I usually carry a few myself, but I left them upstairs when I headed into the pit.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow,

“Fancy lending a few out? They’re the sort of thing that could come in really handy for hunters.”

Sam looked uncomfortable,

“I’d love to, but we’re actively discouraged from letting them leave the hands of the host and I really don’t want to get into another argument with the other archangels – I’ve got a feeling that they won’t take too kindly to me conflicting with them again. Last time they stripped my wings – I really don’t want to have to go through that again. Events have been set in motion that I really need access to my angel mojo for.” He smiled sympathetically, “Sorry.”


	10. Rise of the Witnesses

Sam flew the four of them back to Bobby’s scrapyard. Releasing the three hunters, he cocked his head to the side as if receiving a message. His face paled,

“Fuck!”

Dean looked at his brother,

“What is it?”

“She’s started breaking the seals.”

John looked confused,

“Seals?”

Sam bit his lip nervously,

“Long story short, the seals are locks on a door. The door opens and round two of the family feud begins.” He sighed, “Basically dear old Luci gets out of timeout and has a punch-up with Mikey down here on Earth.”

Bobby tried to align what Sam was saying with his knowledge of lore,

“Luci and Mikey? You’re talking about the apocalypse – Lucifer and Michael, the battle of Armageddon, the whole nine yards?”

Sam nodded, which caused Dean to snort with laughter,

“Bro, you _really_ need to work on your descriptions – I’d hardly say that _a punch-up_ describes the friggin’ end of the world.”

The archangel shrugged,

“It’s not as bad as half the shit I’ve seen.” He raised a hand to prevent any questions, “The main issue is that the queen bitch herself is breaking the seals.”

John raised an eyebrow,

“Queen bitch?”

“Lucifer’s first demon – Lilith.”

John and Dean took a step back, remembering the events immediately before the hellhounds dragged Dean downstairs. Dean suddenly remembered something Sam had said previously,

“The first demon, wasn’t that the one you –“

Sam nodded, quickly intervening before Dean could complete the question,

“Yep. That’s the one.”

Dean chuckled,

“I think you win the competition for craziest ex.”

Sam sighed and shook his head,

“Yeah, as I said, she’s breaking these seals – we’ve just got word that she’s currently attempting to break the one that comes with the Rise of the Witnesses. We don’t know where she’s doing it from though, so we will lose the seal.”

“Balls!”

John looked at his mentor,

“Bobby?”

“The witnesses – basically, they’re vengeful spirits on crack. According to the lore, they target someone that they had a particular grief with in life, but where they’ve been forced to rise against their will, they make anything similar pale in comparison.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised,

“Read a lot of Revelations?”

Bobby shrugged,

“I’ve skimmed through some of the main points – kinda seemed important to recognise the warning signs of the apocalypse.” Sam nodded, and Bobby continued, “I’ll spread the word about the witnesses to the rest of the community, we might not be able to stop Lilith, but we’ll find a way to stop them before they cause too much havoc.”

As Bobby left the room, John turned to Sam,

“No disrespect Sam, but why do I have a feeling that you’re not the most conformist of angels?”

Sam shrugged,

“I am what I am, and I will follow my original orders until they are withdrawn. Since upstairs Dad went walkabout without leaving a note on the fridge telling us what to do, Michael took over. Problem is Daddy didn’t tell him what He told me, so Mike and most of my other siblings give me buckets of abuse, all because I’m following my instructions to the letter.”

Dean bit his lip to contain his laughter as John asked, intrigued,

“Those instructions being?”

Sam grinned and shook his head,

“Now that’d be telling.”

Dean snorted before addressing his father,

“Bet you’re wishing Sammy was that good at following orders when he didn’t have his wings.”

John rolled his eyes at his eldest son and sighed. Sam grinned at the two of them,

“Can’t blame me, can you? Disobedience is pretty much the only thing we can’t get away with when we’ve got our wings strapped on.”

Dean looked a little surprised,

“You can get away with pretty much anything else?”

Sam shrugged,

“By definition, as long as we don’t disobey, our actions are the will of Heaven. The whole Ten Commandments thing? Firstly, they’re more guidelines for you guys than rules – as long as you’re not too much of a dick, you’ve got a ticket upstairs. Secondly, nothing similar exists for us – I think I’m pretty much the perfect example of that.”

Before John or Dean could question Sam further, Bobby returned looking somewhat pale,

“Nobody’s answering.”

Sam twitched,

“That bitch.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow,

“You know something?”

“I’m not sure – I’m gonna have to check on something. You alright if I get someone in to cover?”

Dean shrugged,

“Cover what?”

Sam gestured around,

“Protecting you guys – I don’t wanna leave you guys alone, but I can get my lieutenant to keep an eye on you.”

Dean smirked,

“I like it how you have staff.”

Sam grinned back at his brother before sticking his little fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly towards the ceiling,

“Yo, Castiel. Get your feathery butt down here – I need a favour.”

With a rustle of feathers, a shorter man in a tan trench coat appeared. Sam glanced up and down, appraising the other angel,

“Really Cas? You never seem to choose exciting vessels – next time, consider picking with a bit more flair. Have you seen some of the vessels Balthazar has chosen in the past?”

Cas cocked his head to the side as though he didn’t understand,

“But we’re limited by bloodlines.”

Sam sighed and swept his arm around the room,

“Cas, this is Sam’s brother Dean, his father John and Bobby, John’s mentor and an honorary Winchester. Guys, this is Castiel, he’s gonna be looking out while I deal out some wrath.”

Dean waved sarcastically,

“Um, hi?”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before turning to Bobby,

“Bobby, I’ll do what I can, but we need some way to banish the witnesses – do you think you can rustle something up?”

Bobby nodded,

“I’ll try – I think I saw something similar in one of my rarer books.”

Sam smiled,

“Good.”

John smiled and nodded at his son,

“You be careful out there.”

Sam fought the urge to make some sarcastic comment, choosing instead to nod,

“I will.”

With a last smirk at his brother, he withdrew his blade from his sleeve before allowing his wings to carry him away.

As his brother disappeared, Dean turned to the angel, he grinned,

“So Cas, got any interesting stories about my little brother?”


	11. Tale from the Host

Cas stared at Dean for a moment, before blinking slowly,

“Your little brother?”

Dean gestured as though he thought the angel was an idiot,

“Yeah, my little brother – Sam. You know – your boss?”

Cas blinked again,

“I thought you realised the Samael isn’t actually your little brother.”

Dean sighed,

“Look, I looked after that kid for most of his life – I changed his diapers, mopped up his sick, basically raised him.” John bit his lip guiltily before Dean continued, “I think that counts as enough to allow me to refer to that kid as my little brother, wings or not.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side, confused,

“You want me to refer to one of the oldest archangels as your –“ he raised his hands and did air quotes, “little brother?”

“Yeah.”

The angel sighed,

“Fine – well your _little brother_ has done a lot of things. He’s one of the only archangels who actually pays attention to the younger angels. He trained me and most of my garrison pretty much from scratch – we’re the newest generation, so by this point, most of the older members of the Host try to actively avoid duties like that. Considering the amount of time Samael spent teaching us how to fly without even being told to, I think he would be up for sainthood if he wasn’t already an angel.”

Castiel glanced around as though he was expecting one of the hunters to be laughing aloud,

“I’m guessing that wasn’t funny.”

Dean glanced around,

“That was a joke?”

Castiel blinked,

“Clearly not a funny one – I was never regarded as that much of a joker among my garrison.”

Dean mumbled under his breath,

“You can say that again.”

Castiel didn’t notice and continued,

“Your little brother has always been shunned by the majority of the Host for his actions – most think he’s rebelling, but anyone who has seen him when he’s taking care of the younger generations of our family can’t reconcile both pictures of him. If he does ever fall, there’s a good chance that some of his youngest brothers will fall with him.”

Dean raised an eyebrow questioningly,

“You’re saying that you guys see Sam as the older brother?”

Castiel shrugged as though the point was obvious,

“The entire Host consider each other brothers and sisters – Samael’s one of the oldest so it’s only natural that some of the younger angels refer to him like that.”

Bobby looked intrigued,

“Where _exactly_ does Sam fit into the age order? I’ve looked into a few sources and nothing seems to paint a clear picture.”

Castiel looked awkward,

“Nobody really knows that much about the archangels – they’re the very first generation, the most powerful. Samael is the second oldest of the five original angels – Michael is older than him, while Gabriel, Raphael and Lucifer are younger.”

Dean looked a little sad,

“So the only big brother Sam has got pretty much hates his guts?”

Castiel tilted his head,

“Michael has no particularly strong feelings towards your brother’s digestive system, one way or another. It’s more that he doesn’t trust Samael – he blames him for what he had to do to Lucifer. In Michael’s eyes, your brother was the cause of Lucifer’s disobedience. The only reason Michael hasn’t thrown Samael out of heaven permanently is because our Father never ordered it.” He glanced around, “I’ve said too much.”

A tense silence descended on the group. John coughed quietly,

“So, where should we start looking for that ritual?”

Bobby led the way into his study, pulling out books and handing them to the two Winchesters,

“Start reading.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his father and John smirked,

“Hey Bobby, how come Sam gets to do all the exciting stuff while we’re stuck here with your damn books?”

Dean chuckled,

“Maybe that’s because Sammy has some friggin’ wings Dad – not that I’m jealous or anything.”

Bobby stepped up behind the other two hunters, gently cuffing them around their heads,

“Idjits. You do realise that Sam ain’t doing this for kicks?” He saw the glance Dean gave him, “Alright, he’s probably having a little fun, but he can’t protect everyone these Witnesses are going to go after for long, so get reading.”

Dean sighed as he picked up the first book Bobby had handed to him – pissed that he was wading through a pile of arcane texts for the second time in less than a week.

 

Several hours and several books later, they were still no closer to finding a method they could use to banish the Witnesses. Dean sighed and looked up in time to see the lamp in the corner start to flicker. He quickly glanced at his father and Bobby before calling out to Castiel,

“Um, Cas?”

The angel glanced around as he entered the study,

“Yes Dean?”

“That wasn’t you with the light was it?”

The angel shook his head. As his breath started to cloud, suggesting the approach of a spirit, Bobby looked a little worried,

“Castiel, can you hold off the Witnesses?”

The being in the tan trench coat shook his head again,

“I can hold off one or two, but I haven’t had the experience that the older angels like your brother have had in large scale conflict.”

Bobby glanced around,

“Grab the books, I’ve got somewhere safe that we can go.”

Bobby led the way down to his basement, at which point he pulled open a heavy door. John glanced around in awe,

“Bobby, is this a panic room?”

The eldest hunter grinned as Dean gave a quick laugh,

“You’re fucking awesome Bobby. This is what you call a DIY project!”

“And 100% ghost, spirit and _theoretically_ Witness-proof.” Bobby gestured at the multiple Devil’s traps, “Demon proof too.”

Dean turned to Castiel who had followed the hunters down into the basement,

“Any effect on angels?”

Cas tilted his head to the side,

“Why would any of these markings have any effect on us?”

“Does anything work on you guys?” Dean caught the look the angel was giving him, “You know, just in case.”

Castiel sighed,

“Only those weapons of celestial origin work on the warriors of Heaven.”

“Which means?”

Castiel looked as though he wanted to roll his eyes,

“That’s probably something you should talk to your brother about – otherwise it might appear that you’re trying to get rid of him.” He blinked, “Even though Samael is an angel – he still cares for you, more than he has cared for anyone before – ever since he returned to the Host, his life with you is the only thing he’s talked about besides official business.”

John raised an eyebrow,

“Sam really did love spending time down here didn’t he?”

Castiel looked uncomfortable for a moment,

“It really isn’t my place to say, but I think there’s a part of Samael – no matter how small – that regrets returning to the Host.”

John glanced around,

“Is that a big thing?”

The angel nodded,

“Serving the will of God is the ultimate honour. For Samael to even consider anything otherwise is unthinkable. If he wasn’t an archangel, it’s likely that he would have been killed for what he was thinking.”

Dean chuckled,

“You guys really don’t like people thinking for themselves, do you?”

Castiel shook his head,

“You don’t get it – your brother is allowed more free will than others because he is an archangel, but for most angels, independent thought could lead us to questioning our orders – questioning our _Father_. He is the epitome of all that is good and pure in the world, to question Him is to question that which is right, to walk the path of evil.”

“I’m guessing you don’t see this thing called _the_ _middle ground_ then?”

Before Cas could respond to Dean, Bobby coughed loudly,

“Though I love this whole theology debate, the Witnesses aren’t disappearing without this ritual, and it’s not gonna just spring outta thin air. Come in, shut that door and continue reading.”


	12. Fall of the Witnesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in this chapter, but for the last few days I've been without WiFi on my laptop so couldn't upload. The upside of this is that you now have to wait less time to read the next chapter...

Bobby suddenly stood up from the table in the middle of the panic room,

“Got it!”

John and Dean looked up from the tomes they were skimming through, whilst Castiel looked over from his position by the panic room door where he had stationed himself in case Bobby’s design wasn’t as flawless as he believed. Bobby ran his fingers over the ritual,

“I’ve got all the required stuff around the house – only problem is that it needs to be done over an open fire.”

Dean frowned,

“Like the one in your study?” Bobby nodded, “In the middle of your house, where we’re going to have witnesses coming at us from all directions?”

Bobby nodded,

“That’s the one.”

“Please tell me you’ve got some weapons down here, otherwise we’ve got a couple pockets of salt and an undertrained angel to hold off however many Witnesses we’ve got running around upstairs.” John glanced at Castiel, “No offence.”

Bobby chuckled,

“What’d be the point of having a panic room if you don’t keep it stocked? There’s shotguns and rock salt rounds in the cupboard.”

John gestured towards the cupboard before looking up at Bobby,

“What we need for this spell and where d’ya keep it?”

Bobby started counting items off on his fingers,

“Heavy red hex box in the upstairs linen closet. Hemlock, opium and wormwood – they’re in the kitchen. Cutlery drawer. It's got a false bottom. Rest is in the study”

John turned to his son,

“Dean, you get the hex box, I’ll take care of the herbs.”

The younger Winchester nodded before tossing salt loaded shotguns towards his Dad and Bobby,

“Let’s just hope that these Witnesses aren’t going to cause us too many issues then!”

Bobby nodded grimly before pumping his shotgun, picking up a copy of the ritual and moving towards the panic room door,

“Dean, John, you ready?” After the Winchesters nodded, he glanced at Castiel, “You ready as well?”

The angel blinked, looking slightly unsure as he nodded whilst sliding his blade out of his sleeve. Dean glanced at it before raising an eyebrow as he noted that the blade Castiel carried was somewhat short and less ornate than the one Sam had wielded. Glancing around, Dean made sure that everyone was ready before unlocking the iron door and pushing it open carefully with one hand as the other raised his shotgun. Noting that the basement was clear, the four cautiously made their way across the space and towards the stairs.

Climbing the stairs, Bobby glanced at John,

“Not that I’m complaining, but doesn’t it seem a little too quiet?”

Predictably, just as the last word left his mouth, the first of the Witnesses appeared. The door at the top of the stairs creaked open and a young woman stared down at the three hunters and the angel,

“Ah, the Winchesters, still as idiotic as ever.” She caught their blank stares, “What? You don’t recognise me? Now that’s just hurtful. Then again, you never saw me before that demon cut off my hair and dressed me like a slut.”

Dean frowned with confusion,

“Meg?”

The spirit grinned,

“It's okay, I'm not a demon.”

John looked at the girl sympathetically,

“You're the girl the demon possessed.”

She grinned and help out a hand,

“Meg Masters. Nice to finally talk to you when I'm not, you know, choking on my own blood.” She held up her hands,”It's okay. Seriously, I'm just a college girl. Sorry _was_. I was walking home one night and got jumped by all this smoke. Next thing you know, I'm a prisoner – in my own head. Now, I was awake. I had to watch while she murdered people.”

Dean looked guilty

“I'm sorry.”

“Oh, yeah? So sorry you had me thrown off a building?”

John tried to intercede,

“Well, we thought –“

“No, you didn't think! I kept waiting, praying! I was trapped in there, screaming at you! _Just help me, please!_ You Winchesters, you’re supposed to help people. Why didn't you help me?” She snorted, “Hell, you even have a _fucking_ angel in the family and still you did nothing.”

John joined his son in apologising,

“I'm sorry.”

Meg snarled at the two Winchesters

“Stop saying you're sorry!”

Meg punched the Winchester patriarch hard in the face. John, caught up in his guilt failed to roll with the punch and was sent crashing though the old wooden banister and onto the basement floor. Dean continued to stare at the spirit, lost in guilt,

“We didn't know.”

Meg growled at him,

“No. You just attacked. Did you ever think there was a girl in here? No. You just charged in, slashing and burning. You think you're some kind of hero?”

Dean glanced down guiltily,

“No, I don't.”

Meg raised her arm, aiming to sent Dean through another section of the banister. Before she could, a rock salt round slammed into her, dispersing her, albeit temporarily. Bobby shook his head at the two Winchesters as John stumbled back up to rejoin them,

“Don’t _engage_ with them you idjits. It’s not like you can _reason_ with them or anything. As I said, they’re basically vengeful spirits who got outta the wrong side of bed without their coffee. Shoot first, feel guilty later.”

The four of them pressed into the main level of Bobby’s house, making their way into the older hunter’s study with its open fireplace. Leaving Castiel to watch over their mentor, the two Winchesters carefully split off – Dean heading upstairs to get the hex box and John into the kitchen to get the herbs.

Suspiciously, no other Witnesses disturbed them and before long, Bobby was tossing his concoction onto the flames. John glanced at the elder hunter,

“That it?”

A faint rustling came from the other side of the room and a pained voice responded,

“That was it, bye-bye Witnesses. The seal was still broken, but that couldn’t be helped.”

The three hunters glanced Sam up and down, taking in the violent slashes that had been inflicted upon the archangel. Dean stepped towards his brother protectively,

“Shit man, what happened to you? You lose a fight to a wood chipper or something?”

Sam shook his head and spat a mouthful of blood into a nearby bucket,

“Managed to taunt the Witnesses into coming after me. Lilith had raised them to go after hunters – chose people they couldn’t save and the like. Turns out that a lot of them blame us guys upstairs a lot more than the hunters who failed to save them, so I put on a bit of a show and they all came running. Only problem was that the Queen Bitch hates me a lot more than hunters.” He snorted, “She’s got some real issues with rejection that one. So she rose a few souls that have a very personal beef with me.” He caught Dean’s questioning look and shook his head sadly, “I’m not going to talk about it, but Cas knows who I’m talking about.” He glanced at the younger angel who nodded slightly before he continued, “I ended up being distracted for a second or two and they kinda got the jump on me – fast bastards. No real harm done though, not as though I can be offed by a bunch of jumped up ghosts.” He gestured towards the doorway and smirked, “I’m just gonna stand in the shower for a while until I heal back up, no sense in ruining Bobby’s floor.”

As soon as Sam was out of earshot, the three hunters turned towards Castiel. Dean raised an eyebrow inquisitively,

“So, you gonna tell us who Sam was talking about?”

The angel sighed sadly and began his tale.


	13. The Church of Sam

“Back in the 1300s in medieval England there was a small village centred around an old church. Now Samael, due to his reputation gets very few churches dedicated to him. I believe it might be one of the lowest numbers in the entire host. Michael’s had millions named after him throughout history, as do a lot of the major saints. I’ve had a couple of hundred myself, and I’m not even that prominent.  Lucifer’s even got a bunch – mostly dedicated to who he was before he Fell, but your brother’s only ever had a handful of them, so he usually likes to keep his eye on them.

Now this church was dedicated entirely to your brother – it was nothing impressive, just a simple wooden structure, but Samael was fiercely proud of it and liked to give the villagers a little help as a way of thanking them – above average crop yields, more fish in the nearby rivers, that sort of thing. Nothing that would be declared a miracle, but enough to make life in the village that little more enjoyable.

Over time, some outsiders noticed these things, along with the strange church dedicated to your brother’s _questionable_ nature. They had theories, but there wasn’t enough evidence there to suggest that it was nothing more than just good land. Samael even stopped by every so often, in one guise or another, appearing to be nothing more than a traveller simply passing through. He spent coin in the local inns and occasionally pitched in with a harvest in return for accommodation and some food. With the amount of time Sam spent with the villagers, he grew close to them – they judged him neither for the angel he was nor the man he appeared to be.

When the Black Death – the bubonic plague – arrived in the middle of the century, it hit hard – almost one in every two people died and if your family didn’t have at least one plague victim in it, you were considered blessed by my Father. Your brother protected the village around his church, the disease touched nobody who lived there and any who came through carrying the illness found themselves cured. However, that was the cause of their downfall.

As more and more died across Europe, the lucky village with the quirky church soon became a convent of witches dedicated to the Devil in the minds of the surrounding communities. Your Biblical history didn’t help the cause much – many preachers mention Samael in the same breath as Lucifer after he had fallen. That was when your kind showed the Host just how capable of cruelty they were.

Your brother had been gone from the village for some time, carrying out some of his other work, so didn’t know what had happened until it was too late.”

Castiel paused for a moment, as if to ensure he was maintaining the hunters’ attentions before continuing,

“Whilst he had been gone, the surrounding communities had banded together and declared the entire village guilty of witchcraft. They overpowered the villagers and forced every single person – from the elders to the newborns – into the church and barricaded the doors from the outside. They piled dry straw around the church and set the whole thing alight, torching the rest of the village as they left.”

He glanced at the three hunters – Dean and his father had paled dramatically, whilst Bobby looked physically sick,

“When Samael returned and found nothing but ashes, he kinda lost it. He blamed himself for not being there to stop it, for who he was, for what he had done. All that guilt turned inwards, twisted him – he stopped trusting in humanity for a long time and turned much darker than he had been for many centuries. He hunted down everyone who had been involved and handed out retribution for the blood spilt on hallowed ground. He was merciless, but nobody stopped him, not even our Father.

The land where the church stood is now cursed, partially as a result of the massacre, partially as a result of your brother’s vengeance. Every attempt to rebuild on it has met with disaster – some millionaire wanted to build a hotel on the land, day after he buys it, he is declared bankrupt. Nothing actively harmful though, your brother ensures that, too much blood has already been spilt in his name.

It took your brother several decades, almost an entire century, before he learnt to live with both what had happened and what he had done. Despite Samael’s particular involvement in some of the larger divine conflicts, he’s never held any real resentment towards humanity and has rarely seen unprovoked cruelty of that sort of level before, especially in regards to a group that your brother had such an interest in.”

Dean coughed lightly before asking,

“So Lilith sent those he’d hunted down after him? I can see why that would disturb him.”

Castiel glanced off to the side, unable to meet the hunter’s eye. John tried to draw the angel’s attention back,

“She did send them, didn’t she?”

The angel shook his head slowly before looking back at the group,

“I think Sam wishes that she had. She sent the villagers after him. People he knew and liked. She sent them all after him – even the children. He knew the name of everyone that died, in his opinion, because of him. The guilt Samael feels for not being there to protect them – that level of remorse is one of the only things that could distract someone like your brother when he’s on the battlefield.”

Dean shook his head unbelievingly,

“Surely Sammy can see that it wasn’t his fault. If he’d been there, he might have even made it worse.”

John gave a gentle smile at his son,

“Dean, you know how that brother of yours was like before he got his wings back – he blamed himself for a lot of things we had to do when hunting. I can only imagine how much worse that feels when he knows that he could have very easily saved everyone. Hell, we felt guilty over that girl, Meg, because we didn’t save her and we didn’t even know her from before she was possessed.”

Bobby nodded before joining in,

“Your Dad’s right Dean. I’m also guessing that where Sam’s an archangel, he didn’t have to wait on orders.” He glanced at Castiel questioningly, continuing after the angel gave a brief nod, “So he can’t even pass the blame to a superior, as people like your Daddy probably did, as a way of overcoming personal guilt.”

The shadow of something passed through the eyes of the Winchester patriarch before he nodded,

“Bobby’s right – I’ve done that a couple’a times – doesn’t completely get rid of it, but it sure does help.”

Dean grimaced painfully before nodding,

“I guess you’re right, but still – poor Sammy.”

Bobby nudged him,

“Go speak to your brother Dean. It might not help, but you might manage to cheer that kid up a bit – I’m betting he’s feeling low after what he just went though, even if he ain’t showing it.”


	14. The Second Stage of Healing

Dean knocked of the door of the bathroom hesitantly,

“Sam?” A muffled sound came from inside the bathroom and Dean pushed the door open to see his brother standing in a very red shower, looking completely blank. Dean held out his hand and guided his brother out of the shower, noting that he’d replaced his clothes again. He lightly elbowed the angel in the ribs, “Where d’ya keep getting these clothes from Sammy? I’d love to own that shop, you seem to go through an entire outfit almost every day.” Spotting the ghost of a smile that brushed his brother’s face, Dean led his younger sibling – or an ancient archangel, depending on who you asked – into the bedroom they had always shared whenever they visited Bobby’s house and sat the two of them on the bed. He wrapped his arm around his brother’s back, smiling to himself when Sam lowered his head to rest on his shoulder. When he next spoke, his voice was barely audible, “Cas told us what happened. It wasn’t your fault Sammy, you know that right?”

Sam shook his head slightly,

“I could’ve saved them Dean. They built a church to me, they _accepted_ the angel I was and I let them all burn.” He sniffed, “They trusted me and I let them down.”

Dean met his brother’s eyes,

“We all lose people Sammy. We can’t save everyone – you know that from when we hunted with Dad. Some you win, some you don’t. What really matters is those you _have_ saved.” He grinned down at his brother, “Now I’m not gonna spout some crap about how it wasn’t your fault, if you aren’t smart enough to see that, that’s your problem. All I’m saying is focus on those people you did help, families who lived full lives because of you – I’m guessing with the amount of time you’ve been around that number ain’t too shabby.”

Sam smiled slightly back at his brother,

“It’s probably not as high as you think, and I know that I’m kinda overreacting, but some of them were just kids Dean. I’d learnt to live with what had happened but then Lilith goes and raises them to torment me. I coped by convincing myself that they would have forgiven me, but when they came after me –,“ he trailed off, “It’s just so damn difficult.”

“That’s the gig man – nobody, angel or otherwise gets though life without getting screwed, in both the good sense and the bad.” He winked dirtily at his brother, “That’s probably the meaning of life or some shit, certainly makes more sense than 42.” He smirked at his brother, “That is unless you actually _know_ what the meaning of life is.” He caught Sam’s knowing grin, “You do? Care to share?”

Sam shook his head and chuckled,

“Yours is better. Crude, but what d’ya expect from a jerk?”

“Watch it bitch, or I’ll start calling you Feathers!”

Sam pouted,

“You wouldn’t!”

Dean smirked back at his brother,

“I so would. Feathers.”

Sam knocked his brother back onto the bed in mock rage,

“I’ll show you Feathers!” Holding his brother down, Sam carefully extended one of his wings and brushed the tip against the sensitive spot just behind his brother’s ear, knowing that the tickling sensation Dean got when he first touched the wings would only be exacerbated. Seeing his brother struggling not to burst into fits of childish laughter, Sam raised an eyebrow questioningly, “What’s my name again?”

“Feathers!” Dean snorted out before trying to force his brother off him.

Sam smirked before allowing even more feathers to brush against the spot,

“Didn’t quite catch that Dean.”

Dean remained quiet, not trusting himself to restrain his laughter if he tried to speak. Sam just grinned at his brother and continued brushing the edge of his wing against the patch of skin. Dean tried to keep himself from laughing, but he quickly failed at resisting.

“OK, alright.” He forced out between the very un-manly giggles, “Stop it. It’s Sam, Sammy.”

Sam stopped and glared at his brother,

“Not Feathers?”

Dean shook his head,

“Definitely not Feathers.”

Sam grinned before releasing his brother and stowing his wing,

“Glad to see that you understand reason.”

Dean huffed as he sat up,

“I’m still calling unfair advantage. Not all of us have wings.”

Sam shrugged before smirking at his brother,

“Are you admitting that I’m now officially more awesome than you?”

Dean grinned back at Sam,

“No one is more awesome than me – some of the guys from Metallica come close, but me? I’m just too friggin’ awesome.”

Sam shook his head and chuckled,

“Not even when I can do –,“ he disappeared for a moment before returning with an entire apple pie, still steaming from the oven and two spoons, “this?”

Dean made grabbing motions towards his favourite food,

“That smells so good Sammy, gimme!”

Sam faked confusion,

“What, this?” He pointed at the pie, “Do you want some Dean?”

“Come on Sam, that pie looks so damn delicious!”

Sam shrugged, before quickly moving himself across the room before Dean could attempt to snatch a piece,

“Probably is – I grabbed it from some fancy-ass restaurant when the chef wasn’t looking. I think it’s supposed to be something like fifteen bucks a slice.”

Dean raised an eyebrow,

“Fifteen? That must be a damn good pie, that’s like ten times what it normally goes for.” He looked pleadingly at Sam, “Oh come on, hand it over.”

Sam grinned,

“Not until you admit that I’m more awesome than you.” Dean rolled his eyes before muttering under his breath. Sam cupped a hand behind his ear, “What was that bro?”

Dean huffed,

“Alright, _you’re more awesome than me_. Now can I have some of the damn pie.”

Sam smirked before handing half across. Dean took a spoonful and closed his eyes with bliss,

“That’s some damn fine cooking!”

Sam just smiled as he watched his brother – as an angel he didn’t actually need food, but as Dean had said, the pie was _damn fine_. After a few minutes, Dean had finished his entire segment of the pie, so smirked at his brother, determined not to let Sam win the argument over who was more awesome,

“I bet you’d still be crap at trying to fix the Impala.”

Sam looked offended before making the pie tin and spoons disappear,

“No fair – it’s not as though I need a car now that I’ve got my kickass wings back.” He gave a little evil smile, “Heck, with me around, you don’t need that shabby old thing anyway – I can just give you a ride.”

Dean looked insulted for a moment, until he realised that the angel was joking,

“Don’t you insult my baby! You might have wings, but nothing beats a classic muscle car.”

Sam shook his head and chuckled,

“Only you could think that a _car_ was cooler than a set of friggin’ wings.”

“Oh shut up Sammy.”

Sam silently smirked at his brother knowing that, although Dean’s pride would ever let him admit it, Sam had won the argument. As they descended the stairs and re-entered the kitchen, John and Bobby took in the smirk on Sam’s face and the annoyed look Dean was giving his brother and smiled at each other, knowing that Dean had managed to pull Sam out of whatever dark thoughts he’d been sinking into. John looked at his youngest son,

“So, what’s next?”


	15. Vessels

Sam blinked slowly,

“For now, nothing – we,” he gestured at himself and Castiel, “have other duties we must attend to – there are other seals that need defending and our brothers may need our assistance.” He raised a hand to stop Dean before his brother interrupted, “There are too many possible seals and too few angels – those assigned would be in a state of constant flight, flickering between the likely targets in our true forms. While there is no damage from catching a ride, that amount of direct exposure to the host would be damaging to the physical form of any being who wasn’t an active vessel.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow,

“You mentioned vessels before, what d’ya mean?”

Sam looked a little uncomfortable, unsure if the trio of hunters was going to like his answer,

“When we are needed to physically interact with humanity, we must acquire a physically form – a vessel. They must be from very specific bloodlines – for angels like Castiel, any form that has retained the original marker that the offspring of the occasional angel-human partnerships would have received is strong enough. For archangels, the marker must be both strong and contain a link to the archangel – for complete compatibility, the market should be pure.” He caught the look of confusion, “In genetic terms, think of _the marker_ as a series of recessive genes so is only rarely passed on. If you have the entire collection of genes in any form, you’re good for an angel. For an archangel, it _must_ be activated and at least parts must come from the archangel’s own bloodline – if all the parts come from that bloodline, then the vessel is a perfect match.”

Dean held up a hand,

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that you _possess_ people?” He scoffed, “You’re no better than demons!”

A flash of anger crossed Sam’s face before it settled,

“Yes, we _possess_ people. However, unlike demons, we must be invited in.”

Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically,

“Big difference.”

Sam glared at his brother,

“There is actually. A demonic possession is like someone stealing the Impala and locking you in the trunk. Being the vessel of an angel is like letting Dad or me drive it while you sleep. We also can heal the vessel – wash and polish the car, if you want to continue the metaphor – something demons either cannot do or do not do.”

Dean gestured at Castiel,

“So the tax accountant over there actually agreed to be dragged around?”

Castiel looked blank,

“He was a devout man, he prayed to serve. I granted his request.”

Dean fell silent, apparently accepting the fact, if not satisfied. Bobby stepped in with a question of his own,

“So what about you Sam?”

Sam sighed,

“It’s complicated. When an angel falls, they essentially _become_ the next perfect vessel for the angel. I suppose you could see it as the vessel is possessed as soon as it is created. However, the angel inside has none of their memories from their time with the host – those are only restored when the angel gets their grace back.”

John looked angry,

“You’re telling me that you possessed _my son_ before he was even _born_?”

Sam sighed,

“Yes and no. As I said it’s complicated. If I had _not_ fallen, you would have had a son, who would have been a perfect vessel for me.” He held up a hand, trying to quell the growing anger in the room, “ _However_ , nothing would have changed – as I said, the angel has their memories removed. Until my grace was restored I was, in every single way, Samuel Winchester. At birth, I only had the instinctual memories of a human child, exactly as he would have had. Every decision, every action, everything that happened prior to the restoration of my grace was _precisely_ as it would have been if I hadn’t fallen. That’s why, when most fallen angels get their grace back, they’re a little different than before they fell – the two halves merge – the mind of the angel and the mind inside the vessel.”

John raised an eyebrow,

“So if you left, would I get my son back?”

Sam crossed his arms and looked a little upset,

“I _am_ your son – we were joined when he was just a single cell. If I left, you would be left with a body that was exactly as it would have been if I hadn’t fallen, yet it would have no mind, no instincts, nothing – it couldn’t breathe, it wouldn’t be able to pump its heart, it wouldn’t know how to be alive – you would basically have a corpse of the son you would’ve had if I hadn’t fallen – it would be sustained by the echoes of my grace, but it would be nothing more than a shell.”

John’s voice quietened, a sure sign of his anger,

“Then leave. I’m sure that _my son_ would rather be a shell than have you possessing him every second of the day.”

Sam slammed his fist down onto the kitchen table, shattering it in a way no human could and sending splinters flying everywhere,

“I _am_ your _fucking_ son, John Winchester. There was never a separate Samuel Winchester in this reality – I am Sam and Sam is me – if I hadn’t gotten my grace back, if we’d decided that the world wasn’t worth _fucking_ saving, there would have been no distinction between if I had fallen or not, except the entire _fucking_ planet would have been in much worse _fucking_ shape. If you think anything else then you are a _fucking_ idiot – I enjoyed living without being burdened with the entirety of existence running around in my head, without worrying that every single move I make is being scrutinised by a bunch of angels who wouldn’t know the will of God if it took a crap on their heads. I’ve bled for this family, both as a human and as an angel. You didn’t even realise I was _fucking_ missing until Dean tried to find me to help save your sorry ass. Yet I still came back and helped you, risking my own skin on a practically suicidal mission into Hell. Do you know how much it costs an angel to go into the depths of the _fucking_ pit? Do you know how much _fucking_ pain is caused when hellfire touches us? Yet I did it – I took the more dangerous option, the more painful option – to get your son, _my brother_ out of there before they could cause any further harm. If that doesn’t make me _fucking_ family then I’ll leave. If you ever get your head out of your _fucking_ ass, call for me.”

With those words, a bright light burst out of the youngest Winchester’s skin and he crumpled to the floor, completely still with eyes staring unseeing into the distance. Two sets of eyes turned to look at the Winchester patriarch, both intent on addressing him – Bobby got there first,

“You idjit. You _fucking_ idjit. You honestly believe that kid isn’t your son?” He paused for a split second, continuing before John could respond, “Wings or not, that kid is as much your son as Dean is.”

John tried to protest,

“You heard him Bobby, it’s been possessing him.”

Bobby sighed,

“Yeah, I also heard the part where he said that there was no difference between them until he got his mojo back. He’s exactly what your son would have been, he _is_ your son – it’s not like you’ve ever known anything else. He’s just got a pile of extra memories and a set of wings. He said it was complicated – way I see it, it’s like amnesia, when you get your memories back, you still the same person?”

John spluttered,

“How can you compare it to that Bobby? It was fucking _possessing_ my son.”

Dean replied,

“No Dad, it _was_ your son.” He glanced down at the body lying unnaturally still on the floor, “That look like Sam is in there? You just kicked out everything that _was_ Sam.”

Bobby took back over,

“There’s a view out there that the soul and body are originally separate – that the soul possesses the flesh when life begins.” He glanced down at the body, “Same people would probably argue that there was never a soul in there, our amnesic angel got there first. Everything that was Sam was Samael.”

John shook his head again,

“That _thing_ was not my son.”

Dean glared in his father’s direction,

“Then _you_ are not my father.”

A tense silence descended,

“You don’t mean that Dean, surely you can see –“

Dean interrupted,

“No John, it’s you who can’t see. Now I’m gonna go and get my brother back.” He glanced at Bobby, “Will you give me a hand moving him to the Impala?”

Bobby shook his head,

“I think it’s John here that should go.”

“Bobby –“

“Go John, before I have to start making threats.”

John glanced around looking for support before lowering his head and walking out to his truck. When they heard it depart, Dean turned to Bobby,

“Thanks for that.”

“No problem – he was being an ass anyway.”

Dean was silent for a second,

“How are we gonna _call_ Sammy back?”

A voice came from the corner that made them both jump,

“He’s an angel – how do you think you contact him?”

“Cas? You were there the whole time?”

The angel tilted his head to the side,

“Where else would I have been?”

Dean sighed and was about to make a sarcastic comment when he caught Bobby’s twitch of the head,

“Fine, let’s do this then. Dear Samael, who art in Heaven – um – we got rid of the ass, so can you come home now?” He glanced around, expecting to see a bright light descend, “Oh come on Sammy, don’t  be a bitch. Get your feathery ass back here where you belong.”

The room momentarily blazed white and by the time Dean’s vision returned, he could sense his brother standing behind him,

“You left Dad for me?”

Dean nodded as he turned around,

“I stood by Dad the last time you left and I lost you. Not making the same mistake again.”

Sam grinned down at his brother before wrapping his arms around him,

“Thank you Dean, you don’t know how much that means.”

Dean smiled back at his brother,

“I only chose Dad last time because I didn’t think you’d want me – you didn’t ask so I just assumed.”

Sam chuckled,

“I didn’t ask because I had secrets, even back then, and I didn’t think I could keep them hidden if you’d followed. If you’d found out and left, I don’t think I could’ve handled it – so I left first.”

Dean shook his head at his brother,

“There’s nothing you could do that would stop me loving you.”

Sam smiled,

“I know that now Dean.” He bent his neck and softly kissed the top of his brother’s head, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be the last chapter for a couple of weeks - I haven't been getting as much work done on this whilst travelling and I've got a few one-shots and a few longer pieces that are crying to be finished and posted. I've got a good start on the next chapter, but it's the beginning of Wincest, and I'm trying to make it sound good.
> 
> I'll start posting the Monday after I've decided I'm far enough ahead to being uploading again - two or three weeks probably.
> 
> Hope that's alright!


	16. The Night-time Musings of an Archangel

Sam sighed as he stood up from the table in their latest motel and started quietly pacing. The majority of the seals were holding – for the time being at least, although the host was taking casualties – a sign that there was either a traitor in their midst or there were demons wielding angel blades, both of which were worrying thoughts. He knew that there was a significant portion of the host that was in favour of kick-starting the apocalypse – for no other reason than where it was written that it would happen someday, there was no time like the present. Unfortunately, besides his suspicions, he had no hard evidence of which portions of Heaven fell into that group and whether they were in fact actively working with Lilith, idly standing by whilst she worked, or just silently cheering her on whilst still enforcing the will of their Father.

His biggest problem however was currently still asleep in the bed closest to the door (despite Sam’s insistence that he could handle anything that would be targeting them specifically, it was so ingrained in Dean from the pre-Stanford years that it was no longer a truly conscious decision).

Whilst at Bobby’s, he’d clearly hinted towards the fact that even before he’d left for Stanford, before he’d gotten his wings back, he had a secret involving his brother. It was his brother’s response – _there’s nothing you could do that would stop me loving you_ – that was the cause of the archangel’s current dilemma. The truth of the matter was simple: as a human, Sam had loved his brother more than he should have as a sibling – now, as an angel, that feeling was even stronger. His problem lay in the fact that admitting that he was in love with Dean wasn’t really anything that closely resembled a _normal_ deep secret siblings would keep from each other, so could very easily be an exception to the _nothing_ his brother had said. It was so abnormal in fact that Sam could probably count on his hands the amount of times a phrase resembling _there’s nothing you could do, except admitting that you want to be in an incestuous relationship, that would stop me loving you_ had been uttered in the history of the human race.

Sam sighed – he knew that there was _something_ there – it was impossible for two people, no matter their relation,  who’d lived the way they had to have a deeper relationship than most. He and Dean had spent practically their entire lives practically glued to each other, with nothing permanent in their lives. They’d lived in the knowledge that they wouldn’t be in the latest town long enough to make any real friends, let alone someone they would consider more than a fling. Pretty much everybody Sam had known before he’d returned to being Samael had mention how co-dependent him and his brother were on each other – they’d  be closer than most couples could ever hope to be, a status Sam hoped that they could quickly regain despite how although he was still _Sam_ , he was also something much more. He knew the best way to return to that would be to tell Dean the truth – about everything. Obviously, there was no way that Sam could tell his brother _everything_ about himself – a couple of millennia of history couldn’t be shared in a human lifetime, and there were several secrets that Sam had be ordered never to reveal – but he could share how he felt and hope that his brother didn’t hate him for it.

He took comfort in the fact that he knew that, not only did his brother swing both ways, Dean was known for being somewhat adventurous in his bedroom antics – something that Sam had leant first hand when he’d arrived back to their motel after a cancelled class and had encountered his brother in a very compromising position. However, it was still a huge leap from _that_ to incest.

He sighed again – putting aside the _Dean_ issue for the time being, there were still problems relating to the whole _angel-human relationship_ thing. Technically, angels were forbidden from entering into relationships with humans – something that was imposed after the disaster that was the first batch of seraphim as well as the problems caused by some of Sam’s past relationships (although he still maintained that was just an issue with them being too clingy than anything he’d done). However, whilst that rule was strictly enforced for lesser angels, none of the host were particularly inclined to test themselves against an archangel, and Sam knew that the other archangels saw it more as a suggestion than an actual commandment. Sam wasn’t completely sure how Dean would feel about any interspecies relationship, but Sam was pretty sure that if they could get over the whole _incest_ issue, it wouldn’t be a problem as he was human everywhere that mattered in a relationship.

He fell still for a moment, biting his lip. Although he wanted to know his brother’s thoughts on the issue, Sam didn’t really want to come out directly with his feelings – especially considering that he hadn’t really seen much of his brother since he left for college. However, he was smart enough to realise that he needed to start revealing things about himself – opening up and giving his brother a reason to trust him – if he wanted the best chance of having his feelings reciprocated. He quickly ran though the list of things he knew, dismissing most as either boring or unimportant. He quickly came to the conclusion that the best secret to tell was the one he was least proud of. Not only did it place much of the ills that had befallen the Winchester’s at his feet, but it revealed that, however accidentally, their mother wasn’t completely the person Dean held her to be.

He quickly decided the best way in which to get Dean to understand what had happened and glanced over at his brother then at the clock. He sighed – his brother was going to kill him for waking him up without a cup of coffee, but if he was going to do what he had planned, he needed to do it soon so that the timeline aligned properly. Sliding his hand under his brother’s pillow, he removed the weapon hidden there – although it wouldn’t be able to kill him, Sam had received enough bullet holes and knife wounds since coming back that he didn’t really want to add more to the count. Reaching out, he gently shook his brother’s shoulder,

“Dean.” He whispered urgently when he sensed his brother was waking, “You have to try to stop it. You have to understand.”

With that, he touched his fingers to his brother’s head, sending him flying back over three decades.

Now all he could do was to sit and wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got two further chapters currently completely finished, so will be returning to my normal Monday posting schedule from now on. Yay!


	17. The Night-time Musings of a Big Brother

Dean lay as still as he could on his bed knowing that Sam was on the other side of the room, doing whatever it was that angelic little brothers did when their human siblings were sleeping. He was still worried about the state of his brother’s psyche after the dual assault of the memories Lilith drew up by rising the witnesses and John essentially telling the youngest Winchester that he was not his son. He also knew that Sam was clearly going to be suffering from issues relating to his return to the host – if he was reading his brother correctly, it sounded like most of the angels would like nothing more than to see Sam join his younger brother, only tolerating him because nothing had ever been formally attributed to the archangel.

He quietly sighed under his breath, although Sammy was now one of God’s little soldiers, albeit one of the top five, he was still a Winchester at heart, and as such would never willingly admit to any weakness, no matter how much he was hurting. It wasn’t as though Dean couldn’t tell anyway – he could read the kid like a book – and, even though Sam had gotten better at hiding it with the return of his wings, Dean still caught flashes in his eyes.

What irritated him however was his brother’s mention of a secret involving him that extended back before Stanford.

 He was usually exceptionally good at reading his brother, but never remembered seeing anything that would indicate that his little brother was hiding anything from him. Then again, at the time he was not as focused on Sammy as he could have been – he was slightly distracted trying to shove his extremely un-brotherly feelings for his sibling into a deep recess of his brain where they would never see the light of day again. Now Sammy was an angel and not completely his brother, Dean wasn’t really sure what to think as those feelings began a resurgence. The question he kept asking himself was whether those changes affected those feelings. In essence, he knew that anything remotely in the same territory as those feelings was a bucket load of shit moments away from hitting the fan. However, he had to say, firstly, now that he had some justification for not thinking of Sam as his brother anymore, those thoughts didn’t feel _quite_ so wrong and secondly, as an angel, Sammy was _hot_.

It wasn’t just the new look, although Dean had to admit that the leather jacket and boots were definitely a better look on his brother than plaid. It wasn’t the change in attitude either – Dean did kinda like it how Sam’s original personality was there most of the time, but wasn’t enough of a narcissist to admit that he loved how having his wings returned to him made Sam ooze Dean-like levels of self-confidence when the situation was right. It wasn’t just his brother’s tales of the relationships he’d had in the past – although Dean was quietly wondering quite how good Sam must be in _that_ department if even half those stories were true. It wasn’t just the purely angelic aspects either – although Dean had to admit, there were a few ideas floating around his head involving Sam’s wings that were so kinky that even _thinking_ about them was enough to get the blood flowing downwards. It was everything – even if he hadn’t been attracted to his brother before, he’d definitely be attracted to the new and improved Sam Winchester. The fact that his mind was already leaning in that direction before his brother left for Stanford only served to reinforce Dean’s attraction.

The biggest problem was whether Sam would be attracted to _him_. Although they’d spent almost two decades living within whispering distance of each other – a considerable time, judged on a human scale – Dean was fully aware that, for a being that would see most of eternity, that length of time would feel so short it could almost be considered non-existent. The bigger issue was that Sam was an _archangel_ , he could choose to be with anyone – what reason would he have to choose someone like himself – an unemployed drifter with nothing of his own except a duffle bag of clothes and a car with a trunk full of weapons? Besides, even _if_ he could persuade Sam to be with him, it wouldn’t be fair on the angel – Sam had the whole of creation to live, whilst Dean would only be around for another fifty or sixty years if he was lucky. Being a hunter, it would more likely be closer to twenty – that was assuming they managed to stop Lucifer rising and the apocalypse. Assuming Dean ended up there, Sam could always visit him in Heaven, but that felt a little too close to asking someone to be in a relationship with someone who could never leave a care home and Dean would feel terrible if he ended up making Sam feel that way.

Another question was, even if he decided that he could make all that work, how would he go about starting to date an archangel who was essentially his little brother. It wasn’t as if he could just invite Sam out for a coffee and see how things went from there – firstly because he was a Winchester and that sounded way to sappy to be something he’d do, and secondly, because you don’t just invite a fucking _archangel_ to coffee and hope he recognises it as a date. Dean was just glad that Sam was slightly more socially aware than other angels – like Cas. Dean shuddered internally, there were times when the other angel just seemed so off – whether it was misinterpreting a joke or misunderstanding social conventions – that Dean was immensely grateful that Sam wasn’t remotely similar. From what he could tell, that thankful difference was a combination of the amount of times Sam had gotten to interact with humanity, the memories he had before he’d been given his wings back and the fact that, as an archangel, he apparently was allowed to be more emotional than other angels.

Dean was about to sigh, before allowing his thoughts to continue their wandering, when he felt a hand under his pillow. Tensing for a split second, he relaxed when he realised that it was Sam reaching to remove his weapon – something they’d always done before suddenly waking each other. He knew what was coming so continued to pretend to be asleep as his brother reached out and shook his shoulder. He groaned and blearily opened his eyes, expecting Sam to be on the verge of telling him something urgent. When the words reached his ears, he didn’t quite understand what he was hearing,

“Dean.” Sam whispered, “You have to try to stop it. You have to understand.”

He felt his brother’s fingers touch him on the forehead, then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1000 hits! Thank you to everyone who's reading!


	18. Apologies and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an idiot and just realised that I missed a chapter from the posting order a few weeks back - so today you get that one and this one (the missing one is now chapter 14)!
> 
> This chapter marks the start of Wincest proper so if that isn't your cup of tea and you wish to abandon reading, I hope you've enjoyed what you have read up to now and that your brain comes up with a good ending for you! For those reading on, there's no sex in this chapter, but it is coming relatively soon (as in I've got a rough draft for the chapter that has it and just need to finish padding it out).
> 
> Anyhow, enough from me - read and enjoy!

Dean gasped and blinked his eyes as he realised that he was back in the present. He immediately glanced around, looking for his brother. Finding him sitting next to him he gave a relieved grin, getting a shaky smile in return. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam beat him to it, emotion heavy in his voice,

“I’m so sorry Dean. Fuck, I’m sorry. I had to show you, you deserved to know – but I’m so sorry.” Sam paused for a moment – long enough to catch his breath, but not long enough to let his brother interrupt, “I think at times, Dad always knew it was my fault, and he was right. It was all my fault – if I’d never be born, you’d more than likely have no knowledge of hunting. You’d be living with Mom and Dad, maybe even be thinking about marriage yourself. You’d all be happy and healthy and _normal_. And it’s all my fault. You must hate me so much.” A tear rolled out of the angel’s eye as his voice broke, “Please don’t hate me Dean. Blame me, but don’t hate me. Please Dean.”

Dean looked blank for a moment before replying, his voice full of emotion,

“God Sam, I don’t hate you. I don’t blame you either. If anything, it’s _my_ fault – I gave Azazel the idea to choose you as one of his. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hate _me_ for that.”

Sam shook his head,

“It’s got nothing to do with you – the past is written. Anything you did when you were there was going to happen anyway.”

“Well even if that’s true, it’s got nothing to do with you. You’ve got every right to hate everything about our family – Mom sold you, your soul, everything about you, before you were even _born_.”

Sam shook his head again,

“She didn’t know and she was doing it for Dad, for love. I’d have done the same in her shoes – Azazel had taken everything from her and she took the only route out she could. Her death, our life, that’s on me – if I hadn’t fallen, I might have been able to protect all of you, stopped you having to go to Hell in the first place. You might even have had a proper little brother, not my screwed up formerly-fallen ass.”

Dean smirked at his brother before muttering under his breath without thinking,

“What if it’s your formerly-fallen ass that I want a piece of?”

He immediately regretted his lack of control when he realised that his brother had turned slightly red and turned an even brighter shade of red himself. Coughing loudly, he tried to distract his brother from what he had just heard by continuing his conversation,

“I might, but he wouldn’t be _you_. You’re the one I want.” He stuttered for a second, embarrassed about how the phrase had come out, “T-the _brother_ I want. You may be a snarky formerly-fallen archangel, but you’re _my_ snarky formerly-fallen archangel. As I said, I don’t blame you anyway, it wasn’t your fault – Mom knew what she was doing. Even if she didn’t know exactly what she was agreeing to, she made a deal with a demon that wasn’t for _her_ soul. She was a hunter, she knew what demons are like – she should have known that it wasn’t going to end well, that _someone_ was going to get hurt. And you know what, that’s _worse_. At least when I sold my soul for Dad, I knew what I was getting into. Mom knew she was selling _someone_ and she still agreed. You think that when you were born – fell – whatever, that Mom didn’t realise that it was _you_ that she’d sold? That the kid born _exactly_ six months before the deal was due was the price she’s been afraid to find out. You were _sold_ Sammy. _Sold_! How is that your fault Sammy?”

Sam bit his lip,

“If I’d just – “

Dean shook his head,

“No Sammy. It wasn’t your fault. No _if_ s or _but_ s. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could’ve – “

“No Sammy.”

“If – “

Dean acted on impulse, doing the first thing he could think to do – he grabbed his brother and pulled him into a rough kiss. Sam’s eyes widened for a second before he leant into it. After a moment, Dean broke off and pushed his brother away, his eyes terrified. Sam stared at his brother,

“D-Dean?”

Dean looked disgusted,

“Oh God, Sammy. I’m sorry. I-I-I don’t know what came over me. God, I’m disgusting – I didn’t mean – oh God.”

Sam glanced up at his brother,

“Dean.”

The older Winchester looked worryingly at the angel, the expectation of rejection clear in his eyes. Sam just grinned, before reaching out and grabbing hold of his brother,

“Come here.”

Sam gave a short smirk before mashing his lips against his brother’s, silently laughing at the surprised look on the hunter’s face – it wasn’t often that anything surprised a hunter of Dean’s calibre and reputation. After a few seconds of tension, Dean relaxed into it and slowly moved his hand up to cup his brother’s cheek, mirroring the angel’s pose. After a considerable time, Dean broke away before grinning at his brother,

“That was – that was – “

Sam grinned back,

“Amazing?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a second, “That was your secret wasn’t it? The reason you left for Stanford?”

Sam glanced down for a moment,

“You know why I couldn’t tell you.”

Dean bit his lip before nodding,

“Not like I don’t know what you were going through – I was kinda having the same issues myself.”

The younger Winchester laughed,

“I’m now wishing I’d said something – if I’d known, this would have been a lot easier on both of us.”

Dean joined in with his brother’s laughter before giving him a light punch on the shoulder,

“We’re Winchesters Sammy. You know we never take the easy way if there’s another option.”

Sam smirked before rubbing his thumb under his mortal brother’s eye,

“And do the wings make things easier or harder?”

Dean shrugged,

“Neither, they just make things – _different_.”

“Good different or bad different?”

Dean chuckled,

“Definitely good different. I mean, who doesn’t want a family member with a direct line to the big man upstairs.”

Sam glanced off to the side,

“You do realise that Daddy’s gone on an extended vacation don’t you? Why do you think there’s so much bitching going on upstairs? Let’s just say the kids in my family, we _really_ shouldn’t be left alone at home. Most kids throw house parties to celebrate their parents going away, we just argue over the best way to get Dad _back_.”

Dean raised an eyebrow before turning his brother’s head back to face him,

“You really want to talk about parents right now? Bit of a mood killer isn’t it?”

Sam grinned before spreading out his wings, cocooning the pair of them in a shadowy bubble of translucent feathers, the light filtering in flickering as his feathers flexed. He leant closer to Dean, lips a fraction away from his brother’s,

“This better?”

Dean stared into the angel’s eyes, gazing deep into their immortal depths before grinning back,

“Much.”

With that word Dean closed the remaining distance, their lips meeting in the private world Sam had created.


	19. Boyfriend

Dean ended the call as quickly as he could before Sam, who was standing behind his brother, arms around the other man’s chest and chin on his shoulder, pouting in his direction, could make him lose control and start laughing down the phone line,

“Alright Travis, see you there.”

As he threw the phone down on the bed with one hand, his used the other to flick his brother’s ear. Sam in return pulled one of his exaggerated bitch-faces,

“So, where we off?”

Dean sighed,

“Carthage, Missouri. Looking for a Jack Montgomery. Travis – one of Dad’s old friends – said to keep an eye out for anything weird.”

Sam grinned,

“Bit vague that.”

“You’re telling me.”

Sam grinned at his brother for a moment, before biting his lip,

“So. What are you planning on saying to this Travis?”

Dean looked puzzled,

“About what?”

Sam rolled his eyes,

“Um – me?”

“You?”

Sam nodded slowly, looking at Dean as though he was a little stupid,

“Yeah, me.”

“What about you?”

Sam sighed,

“Well, I’m guessing that when you and Dad found out that I’d disappeared, you didn’t stay all quiet about it, so that’s one. Secondly, there’s the fact that you’re now hunting with me rather than Dad.” He quickly whipped out a wing and used the end to gently slap the side of his brother’s head, “There’s also those – I’m _really_ starting to hate getting shot by every hunter we meet, so if we can avoid it this time, that’d be great.” He grinned mischievously before gently biting his way across his brother’s collarbone, smirking when Dean let out a quiet groan, “There’s also _that_ – I know hunters aren’t the most conventional of people, but I’m not sure they’re that accepting.“

Dean was silent for a moment as he thought about what his brother had said,

“Ah.” Another pause, “What if – What if you’re not Sam _Winchester_? I mean, nobody except me, Bobby and Dad have seen you for _years_ and with your new look – someone like Travis won’t recognise you. Hell, it took _me_ a few moments when you first appeared. We can pass you off as my b-boyfriend and another hunter, spin some tale about Dad leaving us to go hunting alone.” He grinned, “We’ll be fine. Just don’t go smiting things when he’s around, Travis isn’t the _smartest_ hunter, but I think that’ll make even him think that something’s up.”

Sam chuckled happily, his breath tickling inside Dean’s ear,

“Boyfriend? I can go with that.”

Dean held a hand up,

“Just don’t be _too_ clingy.”

Sam quirked an eyebrow,

“Why? You worried about your reputation? Worried that I’m going to worry the image of _tough-guy_ Dean Winchester?”

Dean’s heart flutters with worry for a moment before he recognises the fact that his brother is just teasing him,

“Nah. It’s just harder to shoot the fuglies if I’ve got you stuck to my face.” The short laugh he gets in return brings a grin to his face as well, “You got a cover?”

His brother smirked,

“I’ve been around enough that I’m just gonna pull one outta my memories.”

“Anyone I know?”

Sam grinned,

“Depends on whether you’ve read any of Colt’s journals.” He laughed, “Not that he properly mentions him in there – turns out _hunters with daddy issues_ isn’t just a description for the Winchesters.”

Dean looked shocked,

“You’re saying Colt had a _son_?”

Sam nodded,

“Two – one was really young when Colt died. The other was from an earlier marriage, got referred to as Colt’s nephew as his mother wasn’t seen to be proper enough to be Colt’s wife. Used him as a vessel for a while – how do you think I managed to work with his gun? That guy was paranoid, he wasn’t just gonna accept anyone’s help. It was hard enough to influence him whilst being his kid, I think if I’d just turned up he’d have shot first and questioned later.”

“Fair point.” He poked his brother in the ribs, “Just remember to update it a _little_. Remember, not to be all _well I took my horse and went to the saloon_.” Sam snorted, so Dean continued, putting on a exaggerated Hollywood-cowboy accent, “ _Then I had a gunfight at the corral, but it’s no problem ‘cause I’m the fastest draw in the West. I then went and shot the sheriff, but I didn’t shoot the deputy._ ”

Sam just shook his head at his brother before flicking his ear and muttering teasingly,

“I really need to start bringing you up to speed on _real_ history. Can’t have the _boyfriend_ showing me up when you meet the family.”

Dean snorted,

“You mean people like Cas?”

Sam bit his lip for a moment,

“Cas is –“ He paused, “Well, Cas is Cas. All the younger angels are a bit weird. Usually as they get older, they get a bit more of a personality. All the archangels are a bit like me – Mike’s alright once you get past the fact that he’s a complete dick. Luci used to be decent, then pulled a hissy fit. Gabe’s a good laugh, he’s been off _exploring_ for the last couple of millennia though, so I don’t get to see him too often. Raph’s not bad, but he’s got a bit of a hero-worship thing for Mike, so acts like a huge dick most of the time, but he’s good once you get past that front.” He paused again, “Enough about them though. You ready to go meet this Travis?”

Dean rolled his eyes,

“Yeah, let’s go see. Still not quite sure why he called, but that’s hunters for you – fulla secrets.”

Sam snorted,

“You wanna drive or shall I mojo us there?”

Dean stared at his brother,

“There’s no way in Hell I’m letting you mojo the Impala – you’d probably clog up the engine with your feathers or some shit. We’re driving.”

Sam rolled his eyes,

“You do realise that I’m not actually a bird don’t you?” He glanced at the time, “You wanna hit the road? We can be there by dinner if we set off now.”

Dean sighed before removing himself from his brother’s loose embrace. Moving towards their bags, he tossed one in the direction of his brother before picking up the other and heading out of the room, his brother on his heels.


	20. The Anatomy of a Monster

Sam stood to the side as Travis exchanged a hug with his brother. Travis glanced at him before looking over at Dean,

“No offence, but I was expecting your Dad. Who’s the kid?”

Dean waved his hand as though it wasn’t an issue,

“We had a bit of an argument.” He gave Sam a shoulder-squeeze, “Over this guy in fact. Travis, this is Sam. Sam, Travis.”

Sam grinned before holding out a hand,

“Samuel Caldwell Colt.” He caught the question before it could be asked, “Yes to the Colt thing by the way – his direct descendents kept up his legacy.”

Travis looked impressed before glancing towards the holster on Sam’s hip,

“No point asking what you carry I’m guessing? Travis Michaels – me and the Winchesters go back a fair while.” He nodded towards Dean, “He tell you what happened to his brother?”

Sam nodded,

“Tragic.”

“Tell me. Poor kid. Met him what – ten years ago? Sharp as a whip, some sorta mathlete or something.”

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but Dean interrupted before he could respond with some poorly veiled sarcasm,

“Sam here saw that guy you were talking about. What the fuck?”

Sam grimaced,

“He had a hell of a case of the munchies, topped off with a burger he forgot to cook.”

Travis nodded,

“That’s our guy.”

Dean looked interested,

“What’s our guy?”

Travis rubbed his hand against his cast and grinned,

“Boys, we got a rougarou on our hands.”

Dean looked puzzled,

“A rougarou?” He glanced at his brother for a moment, “Is that made up?” He looked back at the older hunter, “That sounds made up.”

Travis shrugged, “They're mean, nasty little suckers. Rotted teeth, wormy skin – the works.”

Dean chuckled,

“Well, that ain't this guy. I mean, he was wearing a cell phone on his belt.”

The other hunter shrugged,

“He'll turn ugly soon enough. They start out human, for all intents and purposes.”

Sam looked genuinely intrigued,

“So, what? They go through some kind of metamorphosis?”

Travis nodded,

“Yep, like a maggot turning into a bull fly.” He paused, “But most of all they're hungry.”

Dean looked a little bored with the theatrical style in which Travis was revealing the information, but asked anyway,

“Hungry for what?”

“At first, for everything, but then,” the older hunter paused dramatically, “for long pig.”

Sam grimaced, whilst Dean just looked confused,

“Long pig?”

Sam snorted,

“He means human flesh.”

Dean glanced away for a moment, trying not to think of the burger he’d eaten less than an hour previously,

“And that is my word of the day.”

Travis continued dramatically,

“Hunger grows in until they can't fight it. Until they got to take themselves a big, juicy chomp, and then it happens.”

Mostly unfazed by the theatrics, Sam asked,

“What happens?”

“They transform completely and fast. One bite's all it takes. Eyes, teeth, skin; all turns. No going back either. They feed once, they're a monster forever – and our man Jack's headed there on a bullet train.”

“Well, how'd you find this guy if he's a walking, talking human?”

Travis grinned at Dean,

“Let’s just say it runs in his family.”

Sam grimaced again,

“You mean, uh...”

“Killed his daddy back in '78. Son of a bitch mangled 8 bodies before I put him down. Guy used to be a dentist. Cadillac, trophy wife – little did I know, _pregnant_ trophy wife. She put the boy up for adoption. By the time I found out, he was long gone – lost in the system.”

“You mean to tell me you couldn't find someone?”

Travis sighed,

“I'm not sure I wanted to. The idea of hunting down some poor kid – I don't think I'd have the heart. No. I wanted to wait, make damn sure I had the right man. Apparently, I do.”

As Travis made his way towards the fridge to get himself another beer, Dean leant in and whispered to his brother,

“So, this checking out with the heavenly book of big bads?”

Sam shrugged,

“We don’t really keep our eye on monsters – demons, yes – but nothing from Purgatory. That’s Mother’s domain.” Catching Dean’s confused look, he sighed, “Look, Ancient History 101: Long before my Father created my younger brethren, souls or man, He created the first beasts. When deemed too dangerous, He banished them to a domain of endless hunts from which there was to be no escape – Purgatory, the land of monsters. In there, _She_ rules – the Mother of All, a twisted shadow of my Father – She holds the power of creation, but has no concept of _good_. She is the creator of all beasts, all monsters. In the beginning, her creatures escaped, but the backdoors into this world that she used have been long since sealed. However, her _children_ remain.”

Dean looked annoyed,

“And nobody thought that they should do clean up?”

Sam looked irritated,

“And how would you propose we do that?”

Dean shrugged,

“A smiting spree?”

“And just hope that nobody notices the sudden increase in dead bodies?”

Dean opened his mouth to argue before realising that his brother was right,

 “Fine. Can you de-monster them?”

“Kinda. I can reverse a werewolf bite or vampire blood if I act quickly enough, but cannot help once the soul is corrupted. If I get him alone, I can try to save this Jack Montgomery guy, but I fear that I will not be successful.”

Dean sighed,

“In that case, we need a way to get rid of our rougarou problem.”

At that moment, Travis returned,

“You guys trying to think of how to kill this bastard?” He paused, “You have to deep-fry them.”

Dean glanced at the other hunter,

“Fire, huh? Well, that's gonna be horrible. Is that what you did to Jack's dad?”

Travis nodded,

“Uh-huh.”

Sam coughed quietly,

“What if he _doesn’t_ feed? Then he doesn’t hulk out and we don’t need to torch the poor bastard.”

Travis glanced at Dean before looking at Sam as though he was particularly dense. He snorted,

“Yeah, that _could_ happen – there’s even a few stories of them not fully transforming, but that’s all they are kid, _stories._ Every rougarou I ever saw or heard of – they took that bite.”

Sam glared back,

“So what? Just because everyone before him took that bite, we’ve gotta kill him?” He sighed, “Look, if we talk to him, we might be able to get him to fight it.”

Travis rolled his eyes,

“Look kid –“

Sam growled,

“It’s _Sam_.”

“Alright, _Sam._ You ever been really hungry?”

Sam shrugged,

“I mean, haven’t-eaten-in-days hungry?” He paused, “Right then. So somebody slaps a big, juicy sirloin in front of you, you walking away?”

Sam snorted,

“I wouldn’t, but I _could_. That’s my choice.”

Travis laughed,

“Choice, kid? It’s just instinct to him, it’s his destiny.”

Sam just rolled his eyes,

“Yeah, _destiny_ right. Well I’m not gonna kill him unless he does something to get killed for and if you try I _will_ stop you.”

With that, he stormed out of the motel room, leaving his brother alone with Travis. The older hunter looked at the elder Winchester,

“No offense Dean-o, but your boyfriend PMSes like a bitch. What’s got him all worked up?”

Dean shook his head and sighed,

“Don’t ask.” He stared straight at the older man, “Don’t push him though – I’ve seen him take on five demons solo and walk away without a scratch. He might not be the standard hunter, but he _is_ exceptionally good at it.”


	21. An Appeal to a Rougarou

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter today 'cause I felt that I hadn't really put too much work into the last one and this one - most of the text is from the actual episode with only minor alterations.
> 
> Also, it's kinda a celebration as I'm currently writing the first proper Wincest chapter (which is going to be a long one as I don't really want to cut it in two!)

Dean glanced across at his brother as the Impala sped towards the Montgomery household,

“So, what was that spat with Travis about?”

Sam shrugged,

“Angels are the agents of fate, so I’m not a big fan of people insisting on this whole _destiny_ crap. It’s overrated. Most people don’t _have_ a specific destiny and very few things that are written cannot be changed. Pretty much everything is down to choice and free will – most blame placed on destiny is just the result of people making shitty decisions. But that’s what it means to be human – to quote one of your poets: _To err is human, to forgive divine_.” He chuckled sadly, “Not that you’d know that if you held a conversation with any of my brothers.”

Dean reached across and playfully punched his brother’s shoulder,

“Hey, _I’m_ your brother and I’m not a dick.”

Sam grinned,

“Not _completely_ , but then again you are my Dean.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow,

“Your Dean? Is someone getting possessive?”

Sam smirked,

“ _Please_ , we all know your ass belongs to me.”

Dean grinned in return,

“That a promise?”

Sam smiled suggestively,

“Maybe.”

Dean winked at his brother,

“Careful Sammy, don’t want to get me _too_ distracted – we are in the middle of a case.”

Sam just smiled and shrugged,

“I’ll keep you safe Dean.”

“Know you will little bro’.”

Sam leant across and gave his brother a quick kiss as his brother pulled the Impala into the road near the house that the hunt centred around and parked it. Dean ran his fingers into his brother hair and gave it a quick ruffle, kissing him in return before climbing out of the driver’s seat.

Dean bit his lip then knocked on the front door of the house. As the rougarou’s wife, Michelle, opened it, Sam stepped forward and gently pressed two fingers to her forehead, catching her as she slumped into unconsciousness. As he lay her down on the couch in the living room, he caught the look his brother was giving him and shrugged,

“I wasn’t really up for thinking of a good enough excuse for seeing her husband.” He paused guiltily, “Besides, I don’t think the conversation we’re about to have is one we want overheard.”

Dean shrugged,

“Guess you’re right.” He chuckled a little, “Still getting used to the fact you can do this kinda thing.”

Sam grinned,

“It sure does make things like this a lot easier.”

As he moved away from the sleeping woman, he suddenly frowned and stared at her for a moment. Dean gave him a little shake,

“You alright?”

Sam nodded slowly,

“Yeah – it’s just...” He trailed off before shaking his head, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Dean rolled his eyes, before heading towards the open rear door, through which he could see the back of the husband. Sam followed closely behind, calling out as they stepped into the garden,

“Mr. Montgomery? Jack?” Seeing the man slowly turn, he stepped forward and held out a hand, “I’m Sam and this is Dean. We need to talk to you.”

The man stared at Sam for a moment before reaching out and shaking his hand. Hoping that his original thoughts were wrong, he sent out a small tendril of power to judge whether he could lift the curse. Almost immediately, he could tell that it wasn’t something he could fix so caught his brother’s eye and gave a short shake of his head. Jack looked between them,

“About?”

Sam focused back on the man in front of him,

“About you. About how you’re changing.”

Jack looked a little shocked,

“Excuse me?”

Dean sighed with annoyance,

“You're probably feeling your bones move under your skin. And your appetite's reaching, you know, _hungry hungry hippo_ levels. How am I doing so far?”

The man blinked,

“Who the hell are you guys?”

“We're people who know a little something about something.”

Sam glared at his brother, annoyed at his tone,

“We're people who can help. Please, just hear us out.”

Several minutes later, Sam started to share his brother’s frustration. Jack blinked confused as Dean tried to explain,

“A-a what?”

“A rougarou. Sounds made-up, I know, but believe me, it's not.”

“Alright, I've noticed certain things. I mean some _strange_ things. But I just, I-I don't know. I'm – I’m sick or something.”

Sam ground his teeth, irritated at the level of denial the man was showing,

“Your father was one of these things.” Having gotten Jack’s attention, Sam continued, “Your real father. He passed it on to you.”

The rougarou was silent for a second,

“No. Are-are you guys listening to yourselves? You s-sound like you're –“

Dean interrupted, starting to wish that Sam would just whip out his wings and stop any arguments after a _the truth is out there_ speech,

“Skip the whole _you guys sound crazy_ , shall we? You're hungry, Jack. You're only gonna get hungrier.”

“Hungrier for what?”

Dean grinned, glad that they were finally getting somewhere,

“Long pig. You know, a little manburger helper, may have crossed your mind already.”

“No.”

Sam tried to appeal to the man,

“It doesn't have to be like this, Jack. You can fight it off.”

“No.”

“Others have.”

Dean continued Sam’s appeal,

“We're not gonna lie to you, though. It's not gonna be easy. You're gonna feel like an alcoholic swimming around in whiskey. But I'm telling you. You gotta say no or...”

“Or what?”

Sam glared at him,

“You feed once, and it’s all over.” He paused for effect, “Then we’ll have to stop you.”

Dean shuddered slightly as the air around Sam grew a fraction colder and the light got a little dimmer as though a cloud had moved in front of the sun. Jack didn’t seem to notice but continued,

“Stop me? My dad, did uh, somebody stop him?”

“Yes.”

The man glared at them,

“Get off my property right now. I see you guys again, I'm calling the cops.”

Sam tried one last time,

“Jack, your wife, everybody you know, they're in danger.”

“Now!”

Sam raised his hands before sighing and heading back towards the house. Dean followed him,

“Good talk.”

Sam stopped again as they passed the wife. He indicated for his brother to continue on through the house to the Impala,

“Go ahead, I’ll be just a sec.”

Dean raised an eyebrow but continued, leaving his brother in the house. A few minutes later, Sam joined him in the Impala. He looked questioningly across,

“What was that about?”

Sam shook his head,

“Just had to sort something out. Nothing to worry about.”

Dean shrugged before turning on the engine and pulling away.


	22. Wrath of an Archangel

Having tracked Jack for most of the day, including one incident where they scared an innocent homeowner, he had eventually eluded them. Consequently, Dean drove like a man possessed towards the house. Pulling up at the kerb, he pointed across the street to another car,

“I guess we now know where Travis is.”

Dean grabbed his homemade flamethrower before climbing out of the Impala and heading towards the house, Sam closely behind. The archangel shook his head,

“That stupid son of a bitch.”

Dean couldn’t help but agree as he kicked down the front door and saw the destruction inside. They saw a trail of blood leading from a puddle in the kitchen floor to behind the couch. Dean pointed towards in and Sam moved closer, hoping that he might find Travis in the space. When he shook his head, his brother followed. The angel crouched down and picked a small chunk of meat off the floor, Dean paled,

“Oh, God. Think that’s Travis?”

Sam sighed and sadly nodded,

“What’s left of him.” He focused for a moment and the flesh started smoking before quickly being devoured by flames. As he let the ashes fall between his fingers, he sadly looked at his brother, “Guess Travis was right about Jack.”

Before Dean could respond, he was suddenly thrown across the room, knocking himself out as he hit the coffee table. Sam scrambled across the room, panicking momentarily at the sight of the blood running out of a bad cut on his brother’s forehead. He glared at the rougarou for a second before slamming one hand down onto the floor,

“Jack! If you’ve hurt him, I swear...” He trailed off before reaching out and hovering his hand over his brother’s head. Jack stared at him in disbelief as the blood started to defy physics, running backwards into the wound, which quickly sealed itself up. The rougarou looked at Sam, confusion evident on his face,

“What _are_ you?”

Sam glared back,

“Look _Jack_ , we can figure this out, okay?”

The rougarou laughed,

“Yeah. What? We’ll all sit down and have ourselves a little brainstorming session?”

Sam ground his teeth,

“Look, nobody else has to get hurt –“

The rougarou laughed again, almost hysterically,

“After what you did?”

Sam tilted his head to the side, confused,

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You – you send your friend here. He tried to burn my wife alive.”

Realisation dawned on the angel,

“Ah.” He paused, “Sorry about that. We didn’t send him though.”

“ _Right._ Am I’m supposed to believe that?”

Sam sighed,

“Me and my – Dean, we never would have hurt her, okay? There wasn’t any need.”

The rougarou snorted,

“Your friend though there was, just because she was pregnant – talked about not making the same mistake twice.”

Sam looked uncomfortable for a moment, before cursing under his breath,

“Now that you’ve turned, you’ve got to see that nobody should have to go through this – in a matter of hours you lost your family and there’s no going back – even if Travis hadn’t turned up, you telling me that you could have avoided this for the rest of your life?” Jack grunted non-committedly before Sam continued, “Even if you could, would you want to put a kid through that as well? Worrying that every time one of his classmates got hurt, the smell of blood would be too hard to resist?” Another grunt, “I couldn’t risk that – I gave you the chance because there’s nothing I could do for you. However, I swore to protect humanity so I removed the threat before it could become one.”

There was a moment of silence as Jack processes what the archangel had said. As realisation dawned, he snarled,

“You bastard! You absolute _bastard_! What gives you the right? Who gives you –“

Sam growled in return, the sheer power pulsing through his veins electrifying the air,

“What gives me the right? My Father gives me the right!” His voice thundered, for once fully echoing his status, “My brothers would have called me overly generous for not obliterating you the instant I saw you. I gave you an opportunity to escape this curse – you sent me out. Now you attack Dean and me. That’s two strikes – _don’t_ make it three.” His voice dropped back to a conversation level, “Let me help you – I can take you somewhere where you can live out your life, where you won’t be threatened and where you can’t threaten anyone.”

The rougarou laughed,

“ _You_? Help me? Why the fuck would I trust you?”

Sam sighed,

“ _Please_. I’m trying to help you.”

The rougarou laughed again before baring his teeth and pouncing towards the archangel. Sam swept his arm across the room, throwing Jack across the room and pinning him against the wall. As he stood, lightening cracked across the night sky, briefly lighting the angel from behind and projecting the shadow of him and his wings on the far wall of the room. When Sam next spoke, his voice was quiet,

“That’s three.”

With a quiet flutter of his wings, he was in front of the rougarou in an instant. He concentrated for a moment before touching the on the forehead rougarou with the palm of his hand. The room momentarily flared bright with a light, that when it dulled, left nothing of the creature but a faintly darker region on the wall where he had been seconds earlier. Sam returned quickly to his elder brother who, within several moments started to groan as he regained consciousness.

As Dean blinked his eyes open, he saw Sam standing over him, a slight smirk on his face. He groaned,

“What happened?”

Sam chuckled,

“Well ickle Deanie got surprised by the mean scary monster and fell into a deep sleep, so his brave and handsome knight had to step in and save him.”

Dean rolled his eyes,

“And the mean scary monster?”

Sam glanced at the wall patently,

“He pissed off the knight.”

Dean followed his brother’s gaze, silent for an instant before he recognised the shape on the wall,

“Ah.” He paused, before grinning at the angel, “Remind me never to do that.”


	23. Claim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is later than normal, but it took me much longer to write as it's a triple chapter! I'll try and post again next week as after then I'm taking a few weeks off for the holidays, hopefully giving myself enough time to get a few chapters lined up and ready!
> 
> Please note that this chapter has some fairly heavy Wincest (thus prompting the sudden increase in the rating and tags), so if you're not really into that, but want to read this story, you can skip this chapter - nothing really happens plot-wise, except at the very end where they're told to head to Windom, Minnesota ASAP.
> 
> This is the first proper Wincest (or sex scene for that matter) that I've ever written so any constructive criticism (or gushing praise) would be appreciated!

Sam grinned from his place on the motel bed as Dean stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced at the angel for a moment before running the tip of his finger over the brand on his shoulder,

“Hey Sammy, any chance you could mojo away this handprint?  Still kinda itchy.”

Sam smirked slightly,

“I _could_ , but I won’t. I kinda like it.”

“Huh?”

The angel smirked again,

“It’s kinda cute. Shows how much I own your ass.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow questioningly,

“It’s yours? Why didn’t you say before?”

Sam shrugged,

“Well I _did_ tell you that I yanked you outta the pit. Thought it’d be obvious.”

Dean watched as his brother stood and casually came closer. He chuckled slightly as Sam ghosted his fingers over the brand before slowly lowering his hand digit by digit onto the red mark, the shape of his hand matching the handprint flawlessly. Bending his neck, the angel gently bit his way along Dean’s collarbone from shoulder to neck, before tracing the artery in his neck to the pulse point with his tongue. When he reached the spot, he gently bit down, drawing a groan from his boyfriend before sucking on the mark to ensure a bruise formed.

When Dean reopened his eyes he saw Sam grinning mischievously at him,

“What?”

“I _could_ be persuaded to speed up the healing of my handprint _if_ –“

The archangel trailed off. Dean quirked an eyebrow interestedly,

“If what?”

“ _If_ you let me mark you some other way.”

Dean grinned,

“What – some tattoo saying _Property of Sam_ on my ass? I’ve got a little more class than that Sammy.”

Sam shrugged before smirking,

“If you say so.” He paused, “I was more thinking of getting my name done in Enochian – the angelic language – on the side of your rib cage. To everyone else, it’ll just look like an arty pattern, but those who can read it will know you’re mine.”

Dean hummed positively,

“And what would that look like?”

Sam grinned before pulling his lover over to the bed and pushing him down onto the mattress. He crouched over him, breathing heavily on the still-damp skin on his brother’s chest. He traced out the shape of the first letter with the tip of his tongue, then glanced up at his brother,

“First, there would be _fam_.” He traced out the next letter, “Then _un_.” The next letter, “Then _tal_.” The next, “Another _un_.” His tongue licked out a different character, “ _Graph_.” Again, “Finally a _uh_.”

Dean had a grin on his face, amused by the tickling sensations his boyfriend had been causing. He glanced down,

“That’s how you spell your name? _Fam-un-tal-un-graph-uh_?”

Sam smiled,

“Almost, _graph_ is a bit more from the throat.” Dean tried the pronunciation again and Sam shrugged, “Close enough.”

Dean smiled at the angel,

“I like it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow before looking lower down his brother’s body where his towel was tenting significantly,

“I see.”

The elder Winchester’s face flushed red, the colour spreading down his neck – highlighting the hickey his brother had put there – and into his chest. He grinned shyly before muttering quietly,

“Not my fault – you keep teasing me.”

The angel smiled teasingly, shifting forward so that the tip of his nose was brushing that of the man beneath him,

“Hmmm. I suppose I have been a little inattentive. But you’ve been _very_ distracting.”

Dean looked a little confused,

“ _I’ve_ been distracting? How?”

Sam nodded slightly,

“Well, there’s your freckles. I keep wanting to taste them.”

Dean chuckled,

“I love it how you’re supposed to be this big hotshot angel but at times you sound like teenage girl.”

Sam pouted,

“I do _not_.”

His brother just grinned from underneath him. Sam rolled his eyes before leaning closer and dabbing the tip of his tongue against several of the other man’s freckles, working his way across the face towards Dean’s ear. He breathed into it gentle for a minute, tickling the sensitive flesh before whispering into it,

“Alright, maybe I _do_. But it’s all you fault, Dean Winchester.”

Dean chuckled before turning his head and pulling his angelic boyfriend into a kiss. When they broke apart, Sam smiled cheekily, before glancing back down the mortal’s body, quirking his eyebrow when he spotted the slightly wet patch on the towel. The angel hummed before running a figure lightly over his brother’s body from lips to mid-chest,

“I really _am_ teasing you, aren’t I?”

His brother groaned,

“God, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes sparkled with a challenge,

“Here’s my deal Dean – hold on for the next five minutes and Little Dean-o will get what he wants?”

Dean groaned again, before panting heavily

“I don’t – I don’t think I _can_.”

Sam smirked,

“That would be a terrible shame,” he leant back down and whispered again, “’cause I’ve heard that sex with an angel is _divine_.”

Dean lightly slapped his brother’s shoulder,

“ _God_ Sammy – hurry up then. I thought it was demons who were supposed to be experts at this whole torture thing. I swear this is worse than Hell.”

Sam snorted with laughter before nuzzling his way down Dean’s neck, drawing lines between the freckles with his tongue,

“Those idiots think it’s all about pain,” he nipped at the collarbone, “when it actually lies,” he slowly kissed his way closer to the elder Winchester’s nipple, “in the _preparation._ ”

On the last word his blew gently on the sensitive flesh before darting his tongue out, barely brushing the tip. The contact was enough for the man underneath who moaned loudly,

“ _Fuuuuuuck._ ”

A slight smile twitched across the angel’s lips,

“Subtle Dean, I don’t think the neighbours heard that.”

Dean looked as though he wanted to respond, but couldn’t get the words out. Seeing what he was doing to the older man, Sam smirked before gently nipping on the tense flesh, drawing out another whimper as the paler man fisted his hands into the sheets underneath him.

The angel moved lower, tracing the thin line of hair down the man’s chest with his tongue, stopping where it met the roughness of the white motel towel. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the other man, his body thrumming with desire. He reached down Dean’s leg to where it hung off the bed, before slowly running his hand up the inside, his fingers trailing behind his palm. When he reached the hem of the towel, he paused before letting his hand continue its upward journey whilst the other hand set to work unwrapping the towel from around his brother’s waist.

Unpeeling one side of the towel, he let it fall onto the motel bedspread, revealing one of Dean’s hips which he immediately gave attention to, gently raking his teeth over the bone jutting out from under the soft flesh. Ghosting his fingers over the paler skin of the lower man’s thigh he glanced up momentarily, grinning when he saw Dean’s head thrown back as the elder Winchester struggled to keep in control,

“Almost done, Dean. That’s over halfway.”

He received a grunt in reply, Dean too focused on making the full five minutes to vocalise. He smirked,

“Although this next bit is where it’s going to get _really_ challenging.”

His brother groaned again as the angel pulled away the other side of the towel letting the cooler motel air hit the straining organ between the older Winchester’s legs. Sam moved his head across to Dean’s other thigh, blowing seductively as he passed over the sensitive flesh. He ran his teeth gently over the protruding tip of the newly exposed thighbone before moving across to finally pay attention to the man’s sex. He lightly brushed his tongue over the end of Dean’s leaking cock, catching a drop of the pre-cum as it oozed out of the slit. Dean slapped his hand impatiently against the bedcovers,

“ _Shit_ Sammy. For the love of _God_ , please tell me that that it’s been five _fucking_ minutes already.”

Sam shrugged, grinning smugly before letting his tongue dart out again to catch another drop,

“Close enough.”

Dean chuckled breathlessly,

“Couldn’t wait?”

Sam smirked,

“I’m kinda looking forward to watching you fall apart. Couldn’t have it happening _too_ soon.”

The angel grinned one last time before grasping hold of the straining pillar of flesh in front of him, roughly tugging it twice before running the callused pad of his thumb over the leaking head. Removing his hand, he started to lick the cock on offer, running his tongue along the thick vein on the underside before dipping into the slit in the head, liberally coating the throbbing organ in a mixture of saliva and pre-cum. He looked up at Dean,

“You sure?”

Dean nodded furiously, biting his lip,

“Fuck, yes! Wanted you for so long Sammy.”

Sam nodded briefly before returning his attention to the dripping length beneath him, taking the glistening head into his mouth. Dean immediately groaned as Sam started to move teasingly slowly, taking a little more in before rising back up,

“ _God_ , that’s good.”

Sam let his brother’s cock slip of out his mouth with a loud pop. He grinned mischievously,

“I might be good Dee, but I’m only an angel.”

Dean moved one of his hands until it rested on Sam’s head, fingers lightly curled into his hair,

“Yeah, but you’re _my_ angel.”

Sam chuckled lightly,

“Love it how easily Dean Winchester, mighty hunter and all-round tough guy, turns into a giant sap.”

Dean grinned,

“Only for you Sammy.”

Sam smiled back before taking his brother back into his mouth, briefly glancing up Dean’s chest when he felt the hunter’s fingers tense slightly in his hair. He started to move again, ensuring that every time his bobbed his head, he took a little more of the stiff length in, until the tip of his nose started to brush against his lover’s pubic hair. On the next bob, he changed his rhythm, holding still for a moment with his brother’s shaft fully inside him before opening his mouth slightly, allowing the majority of the organ to slide out until just the tip was held inside his mouth. Immediately, he sunk back down, loving how it made Dean groan and tense his fingers again. As he repeated the action, he slowly ran one hand up the length of his brother’s body, letting it rest on his chest above his pounding heart. Dean moved his other hand to the same spot, letting their fingers lightly intermesh. Dean gently stroked the side of his brother’s hand with thumb, he grinned, his voice tense,

“Love you so much Sammy.”

Sam snorted, humming around Dean’s dick. As his brother’s hips bucked slightly, Sam opened his mouth to answer,

“Love you too Dee. Love you _so_ much.”

Dean grinned down at his brother as the younger Winchester took him back into his mouth and hummed again. Dean tensed,

“Sammy.” He paused as his hips involuntarily bucked again, “So close. So _fucking_ close.”

Sam continued his actions, trying to give his boyfriend as much pleasure as he could before the man fell off the metaphorical cliff. Sam sensed his brother tense and tasted the first salty squirt before Dean screamed as he unloaded down the angel’s throat,

“ _Fuck, Sammy!”_

Sam swallowed before sucking at Dean’s cock again, drawing the last drops of the man’s orgasm out into his mouth. He let the softening organ slip out of his mouth before grinning at his brother, taking in the look of pure bliss on the hunter’s face. Returning his attention to the sticky flesh, he started to lick it clean, greedily seeking out any remaining cum as though it were nectar from the gods. Satisfied he had gotten enough, he moved himself up his brother’s body, hovering his lips an inch above his lover’s. Dean grinned happily before reaching up to pull him down into a deep kiss,

“Wanna taste myself on you Sammy.”

Sam let one of his hands return to his brother’s sex even as their tongues clashed in the space formed by the sealed lips. He gave a quick tug, breaking off the kiss to grin when he felt the flesh twitch weakly,

“You up for round two in a bit?”

Dean shook his head before running his hands over his brother’s shirt, seemingly noticing for the first time that the angel was still fully clothed,

“Need to get this off you Sammy. _Need_ you.”

Sam blinked,

“Need me? You’ve got me Dean.”

His brother shook his head,

“No. Need _you_ , Sammy. Need you in me. I want – I want to fall apart with you buried inside me.” He blushed, “I want you to slam your thick cock inside and fill me with your seed. I want to feel your hot cum dribble outta my ass and down my thighs. I want to wake up the next morning sore and knowing who’s been in me. I want you Sammy – I _need_ you.”

Sam smirked before running his fingers over his lover’s ribcage,

“Want to make you mine, Dee before I make you _mine_.”

Dean frowned slightly, confused,

“What do you mean?”

“Want my name on you as I said. You want it Dean? Want to be mine and only mine?”

Dean groaned before nodding,

“Want to be yours, Sammy. So much, Sammy.”

Sam smiled,

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

Sam ran his finger over his brother’s ribcage, permanently marking each letter into the freckled skin as he traced it out. When he’d finished, he brushed over Dean’s shoulder, removing the branded handprint, before standing and giving his brother space to walk over the motel room mirror. Dean grinned as he looked at the Enochian in the mirror, running his finger over the dark markings,

“Shit Sammy, this make me yours?”

Sam stood behind his lover, wrapping his long arms around the newly marked chest and grinding his crotch against his boyfriend’s naked ass, his erection straining at the denim. He gazed into the green eyes reflected in the mirror,

“Please?”

Dean nodded, before letting Sam bend him forward until his hand rested on the motel wall and his face was inches from the mirror. Sam bent over him to whisper in his ear,

“Want you to see yourself Dee. Want you to watch yourself as I open you up.” He started to kiss his way down the arched back, “You _so_ fucking hot Dean, want you to see yourself as you start to fall apart.” Sam paused, “Want you to see what I see when I look at you.” He smirked, “Then I’m gonna pin you to the bed and you’re gonna scream as your little brother splits you open on his giant cock.”

Dean groaned as his dick twitched in anticipation. Sam continued his journey downwards,

“No condom Dee – just me and you. Nothing between us as you take every inch.” Sam paused again, “Those guys you hooked up with in the past – you let them fuck you?”

Dean nodded shakily,

“Only imagined you though, Sammy.”

Sam chuckled,

“I’m gonna go so deep, you won’t even remember them. Won’t remember anyone. Won’t remember your name. Nothing. Just me. Gonna plough you so hard you won’t remember anything but me. You want that Dean?”

The older Winchester nodded frantically,

“Want to scream so loud that the whole motel will know who’s in me.”

Sam grinned before lightly smacking Dean’s ass,

“They’ll come begging for me and you’ll know that I’m yours and yours alone. Got my name on you Dean, that’s a promise.”

Dean nodded again before gasping as Sam lowered himself to his knees, parted his lover’s ass-cheeks and blew cold air onto his hole. The angel grinned slightly before running his tongue over the sensitive spot,

“You like that Dean? Want me to fuck you open with my tongue?”

Not waiting for a response, he licked again, pushing the tip of his tongue against the tight ring of muscle. He repeated the action multiple times, a teasing lick before pushing at the hole, demanding access. He paused for a moment, glancing past his brother’s thighs and up into the face in the mirror,

“Forgot you’re a virgin again Dee. New body and it’s nice, tight and just for me.”

Seeing the shock on his brother’s face, Sam smirked before returning his attention to Dean’s entrance. After a few more licks, the muscle started to relax, letting Sam shove his tongue into the tight passage as his brother groaned again. He started to work his way in and out, lubricating up the channel as it started to widen. After a few minutes he withdrew,

“Dean? You got any lube?”

Dean nodded,

“Duffle bag – side pocket.”

Sam chuckled before scooting across the room to fetch the tube. Returning, he drizzled a little down his brother’s crack, chuckling as the hunter reaction to the sudden coldness. He squirted some onto the palm of his hands, rubbing them together to warm to liquid up. He gently pressed the tip of one finger against the open hole, running it around the rim before slowly pushing inside. He let his lover’s body adjust to the intrusion, rubbing circles at the base of Dean’s spine as he slowly started to move the finger in and out, pushing a fraction deeper on each movement. After a few moments, his brother reached down and slapped his hand impatiently,

“Ready for two Sammy.”

Sam nodded before slowly pushing his middle finger in alongside his index. After a few pushes he slowly began to scissor them inside his boyfriend’s tight passage. As Dean groaned, a tinny version of _Smoke on the Water_ started to sound from the bedside cabinet. Sam paused and glanced up at his brother. Dean shook his head,

“Leave it Sammy – if it’s important, they’ll call back.”

Sam shrugged before continuing to move his fingers. The cell phone eventually rang off, but within seconds started to ring again. Dean bit his lip, and glanced towards the source of the sound,

“I probably should –,” He trailed off, “ _Fuck!_ ”

Dean slammed his fist against the wall in frustration, causing Sam to jump slightly,

“Dean?”

His brother sighed, glancing over his shoulder, clearly undecided as on what to do. The phone rang off again. Dean huffed,

“I just want _one_ night Sammy. Just one night – just me and you.”

Sam smiled sympathetically,

“Look, wait another few minutes – they ring back again, we answer. If not –,” He grinned cheekily. “Then we know we’re not needed.”

The next sixty seconds felt like an age as both Winchesters waited in silence to see the outcome. The tension was broken when the opening bars of _Californication_ started to sound from Sam’s pocket. Dean smirked at him,

“Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Sam? I thought you were going for the rockstar look, none of this emo crap?”

Sam rolled his eyes before glancing down at the display,

“It’s Bobby.”

Dean sighed,

“Fuck.”

Sam shrugged before hitting the answer key,

“Hey Bobby!” He grinned as though Bobby could see, “Yeah, I hear it but Dean was busy.” He blushed, “He was – He was in the shower.”

Dean smirked at him before silently mouthing _liar_. Sam rolled his eyes,

“It was Dad? What?” He nodded for a moment, “Windom, Minnesota? What’s there?” Another pause, “Yeah, alright Bobby. See you.”

Dean looked questioningly at his brother,

“So, Dad’s heard that’s something’s happening in Minnesota and asked Bobby to tell you to use _the thing in your brother_ and get to Windom as quickly as possible. Apparently, there’s something potentially threatening the Milligans and we’ve got to go save them.”

Dean looked unimpressed,

“We have to stop because Major Dad decided that using your mojo to save these people is ultra high priority. Who the fuck does he think he is and who the fuck are the Milligans?”

Sam shrugged,

“You ever remembering Dad telling anyone anything besides the basics?”

Dean pouted,

“Fair point, but _fuck_ – half an hour, Sammy. If he’d just waited thirty more minutes.”

Sam chuckled before slapping his brother’s ass playfully,

“Probably better this way anyway – you really want our first time to be in a cheap motel?”

Dean whined with disappointment,

“Thirty minutes.”

Sam grinned playfully,

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Dean sighed before heading across the room and starting to throw on his clothes,

“You’d better.”

Sam smirked teasingly,

“I’ve got a few ideas.”


	24. Family Reunion, Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be my last chapter pre-holiday break, so Happy Holidays and all that jazz!
> 
> Just as a minor warning, although Adam is going to be joining the Winchester family business, the story is not going to be very nice to him for a long while (not because I dislike his character, just because I need someone to fulfil a role and he's the best choice!). However, I am planning a really cool redemption arc for him much later on that'll give a lot more closure to his character than the show did!

Dean shook his head as Sam released him, having pulled him the 450 or so miles between Carthage and Windom in an instant. He chuckled,

“I’m guessing I should start getting used to that.”

Sam shrugged before grinning cheekily,

“Depends, you planning on giving up the Impala anytime soon?”

Dean faked a look of complete shock,

“What? Give up Baby?”

Sam chuckled,

“I thought I was your baby?”

Dean sighed before rolling his eyes,

“So, who do you think these Milligan people are?”

Sam coughed before scratching his neck awkwardly,

“Well, I _kinda_ know who they are. I asked and someone told me.”

Dean raised an eyebrow,

“As in,” he pointed upwards, “ _someone_ told you?”

Sam nodded,

“The kid has kinda got the same reputation upstairs as you do.”

Dean looked impressed,

“The angels talk about me?”

Sam shrugged,

“I said God has a plan for you – what do you think we talk about when we’re upstairs? Or did you think we just sat on clouds playing harps?”

Dean shrugged,

“With your look I was assuming it was going to be more of an electric guitar.” The angel chuckled before Dean continued, “So why is this kid as great as me?”

Sam chuckled,

“That’d be telling. However, the kid, Adam is kinda related to us.”

Dean looked confused,

“Huh?”

“Well, um, you know that John wasn’t exactly a monk?”

“Yeah.” He paused, his eyes going wide, “Wait a moment, are you saying – “

Sam bit his lip,

“Yep. Downstairs dad did the dirty and 9 months later there was a third little Winchester running around.”

“And he didn’t tell us?”

Sam shrugged,

“He’s not exactly known for making good decisions with his kids.”

Dean sighed before kicking at the dirt,

“Yeah. He isn’t brilliant.”

“So shall we go find our little brother?”

Dean grinned before heading towards the diner where they had been told to meet the Milligans,

“Let’s go say hello.” He paused before looking back at Sam guiltily, “You know this isn’t gonna change us, don’t you? You’re still my little brother – this Adam kid isn’t going to change us.”

Sam chuckled,

“Dean, I’m an archangel and we’re sleeping together. If that hasn’t screwed up anything, I don’t think finding out that someone slipped one past the goalie nineteen years ago will.”

Dean shrugged,

“Fair point. You find out anything else about these guys?”

Sam followed his brother as they continued towards the diner,

“He’s just turned eighteen and has just started pre-med at the University of Wisconsin. His mother, Kate, is a nurse – so no points for guessing why little brother is going down the medical route. She treated John after he was injured on a hunt and, well,” he waved his hand, “Adam happened.”

Dean chuckled as he pushed open the door,

“Really glad you chose that way of phrasing it. Thinking about parents having sex is a massive turn off.”

His brother rolled his eyes,

“And now I have that image burned into my brain. Great.”

Dean smirked,

“Any time bro’.” He glanced around the inside of the diner, “So, where are they?”

Sam looked down at his watch,

“We’re running a little early – want to grab a coffee while we wait?”

Dean shrugged before leading the way towards a table in the corner. He gestured towards the water,

“Fancy doing a blessing?”

Sam sighed before waving his hand over the glasses,

“And we’re not trusting our own sibling because?”

Dean shrugged before pouring packets of salt into the two glasses on the opposite site of the table to them,

“When do we trust anyone?”

Sam rolled his eyes before muttering under his breath,

“I’m gonna need a drink.”

He touched the surface of his water with the tip of his finger, watching as it gradually clouded into a dark red colour. He sighed once more when he saw his brother replace the cutlery with a silver set,

“You do realise that even if they turn out to be some sort of shapeshifting ghost demon spawn, we can hardly gank them in the middle of a diner?”

Dean grins as his brother takes another gulp of wine,

“Sure we can. You just use your mojo to do some clean-up afterwards. You can wipe minds right?”

The angel sighed,

“ _Technically_. Although I think I might get into a little trouble with the guys upstairs if I spend half my time chasing after you. When we’re down here, we do _try_ to keep it all somewhat secret. For some reason people take angels walking around really seriously – last time that happened, it got a little out of hand. One thing led to another and we accidentally ended up with a new religion.” He chuckled, “Much easier to just do a little smiting when nobody’s around.”

Dean hummed uncertainly,

“At least this way, we’ll have forewarning if they _are_ fuglies.”

Sam shook his head despairingly at his brother,

“You really are paranoid aren’t you Dean-o?”

His brother smirked,

“Unfortunately not all of us bulletproof, Sammy.”

“Not bulletproof Dean, they just can’t really hurt me.”

Dean laughed,

“Is there really that much of a difference?”

The angel shrugged before grinning,

“Being bulletproof hurts less.” There was a pause, “How much are we going to tell these guys?”

“About us or about _us_?”

“Both?”

Dean chuckled,

“Well, if Da – John sent us here – ,”

Sam interrupted,

“You can call him Dad if you want, just because he’s an ass who has issues with me doesn’t stop him being who he is.”

“If _Dad_ sent us here, then the odds are that something going on and it’s not going to be a white picket fence conversation. So we’re probably going to have to tell them about the hunting. The whole _us_ thing, I’d rather avoid for now.”

The taller man shrugged,

“I see your point there – I’d place money on Bobby being the most accepting of _us_ , which is _definitely_ saying something, and I’ve got no _idea_ where I’d start with him. So telling our long-lost sibling and his Mom that we’ve got a _thing_. Let’s just say there’s been better plans.”

Dean snorted a little,

“One final thing – _you_. What’d you want to say?”

Sam chewed on his lip,

“Um – I don’t _mind_ saying something, but do they really have to know?”

The elder Winchester shrugged,

“Fair point. Guess we’ll play that one by ear.”

He received a smile in response,

“Yeah.”

Dean huffed,

“I’m still pissed at Dad that he didn’t tell us.”

Sam snorted,

“What’s new?”

They looked up as the door to the diner swung open and a teenager walked through the door, greeting some of the staff members like only a local would. Dean flicked his eyes towards his brother,

“That Adam?”

The angel nodded,

“Yep.”

“Where’s his Mom?”

Sam shrugged before attracting the newcomer’s attention with a wave. As the boy approached, he grinned,

“Adam?”

Adam nodded,

“Hey.”

“I’m Sam and that’s Dean. John heard you might be in trouble so sent us.”

The kid bit his lip nervously,

“Mom heard something when I came home for the weekend, so phoned him. He said to meet him here this morning. He didn’t say anything about you.”

Dean rolled his eyes before muttering,

“Typical!”

Sam kicked his brother’s leg under the table. He smiled at Adam as the younger man took drank deeply from his glass,

“What Dean means is that we’re not John’s favourite people at the moment, we had a little spat the last time we met. We were the only ones who could get here in time though, so we agreed to help out.”

Adam looked nervously between the two of them as he fiddled absentmindedly with his cutlery. Sam gave his brother a smug glance to say _told you so_ as Dean visibly relaxed. Adam chewed on his lip again for a moment,

“Not trying to be rude, but who exactly _are_ you?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but his older brother jumped in first,

“We're nobody important. Only the guy’s fucking _sons_.”

There was a long pause as Adam glanced between the two of them in shock,

“I have _brothers_?”

Dean chuckled,

“Good to see he’s just as honest with the other side of the family.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before turning to Adam,

“Adam, where’s your Mom?”

The teen’s face fell immediately,

“I – I don’t know. I heard her call the hospital when she got off the phone with John, my – our Dad. Next thing I heard was a groan and when I went to look for her she’d gone.”

Sam nodded sympathetically as Dean sighed. Adam glanced between the two of them, clearly worried,

“I – I think something got her.”


	25. Ghouls Aren't Family

Sam glanced at Dean,

“I’m going to go look.”

There was a fluttering of wings, before Sam disappeared. Adam stared at the space where one of his brothers had been sitting before turning his confused gaze onto Dean,

“W-what?”

Dean bit his lip nervously, before shrugging. Adam stuttered momentarily before asking again,

“He – he can do that? Who _are_ you?”

Dean itched at the side of his neck nervously,

“Um, well we _are_ your brothers. It’s just that Sam occasionally moonlights as the archangel Samael.”

“Angels are real?”

Dean sighed, before muttering to himself,

“I hate giving this talk.” He looked up at Adam, “Yeah. As do demons, and ghosts, and vampires, and a fuck load of other crap. If you want a list, ask Sam – apparently, he’s seen a lot more crap than anyone else I know.”

Adam paled,

“A-and you think one of these things got her?”

Dean shrugged,

“I’m not sure, but if anyone can find out, it’s Sam. That kid was freakishly good, even before he got his God Squad card back.”

The younger boy tapped a finger on the table,

“You’re not making this up are you?” Dean shook his head and Adam hummed uncertainly, “I can get how I’ve got brothers – I hardly ever saw John, so it’s not really that much of a surprise that I don’t much about him – but how the fuck is one of them an angel?”

Dean itched at his stubble,

“Kinda a long story.” He chuckled, “The ClliffsNotes version? Samael isn’t the most popular upstairs and got tossed out. He got born as a human and was nothing more than my kid brother until a few years back when the guys upstairs decided that there were problems, so gave him his wings back. Afterwards, he disappeared for a while until we reunited when he yanked me outta Hell.”

Adam frowned,

“Hell? As in _the_ Hell?”

“Fire, brimstone and pain. The whole nine yards.”

“That’s – that’s, um.”

Dean chuckled,

“Yeah. That pretty much sums up what being a Winchester entails.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment as Dean thought about what he and Sam had experienced in the name of protecting people and Adam reflected on the horrors his brothers had gone through.

“What do you think has got my mom?”

Dean shrugged,

“Sammy is probably the best one to ask there, but you shouldn’t worry - there’s only a few thing he’s said he’s scared of.” His smiled reassuringly, “Apparently none of them are around at the moment.”

Adam nodded absently before glancing around as Dean gestured towards the door,

“Here he is now.” He grinned at Sam, “Hey Sammy. What you find?”

His brother blinked,

“Huh?”

“You find anything worth smiting?”

Sam frowned,

“Smiting?”

Dean chuckled nervously,

“You alright dude? Or whatever the equivalent is for you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You find Adam’s mom?”

There was a pause before Dean’s younger brother nodded slowly,

“Yeah. There’s an old farm on the edge of town.”

Adam frowned,

“Morgan Farm?”

“Presumably. I tracked her to there.”

Dean frowned,

“Anything hanging around.”

“Not that I saw.”

“And you didn’t go grab her?”

Sam shrugged,

“Thought you two’d like to come with.”

Dean stared, flabbergasted for a moment,

“You’re thinking of taking Adam. On a _hunt_?” He glanced across at the younger boy, “No offense.”

“Why not? This is what our family does.”

“Yeah, but Adam isn’t training or anything.”

His brother shrugged again,

“We’ll be there to protect him and that only is if the things haven’t scarpered anyway. It’ss be completely safe.”

Dean frowned for a moment,

“I – I guess.”

Sam gestured at the door,

“Shall we go then?”

Dean glanced at Adam, who nodded warily, before standing and shrugging, following his brother as Sam led the way out of the diner and towards the parked Impala.

Twenty minutes later, Sam was leading the way into a dilapidated property on the edge of the town, Dean and Adam following cautiously behind him. Dean coughed apprehensively,

“You sure about this, Sammy?”

Sam looked back at his brother and raised an eyebrow,

“Really? Course I am.”

Dean shrugged before letting Sam continue into the house. As they passed deeper into the house, Dean started to feel uneasy, so waiting for Adam get closer in order to help protect him. As they passed into the kitchen, a fist thundered into Sam’s head, slamming it into the wall and causing it to explode into a mess of blood and bone. Dean pushed Adam behind him before angrily pulling out his gun and advancing forward.

When an authoritative voice screamed _down_ Dean and Adam both instinctively ducked gasping as a tennis ball flew above their heads with the force of a cannon ball, slamming into the head of someone sneaking up behind them, demolishing their head as well.

Adam screamed when he looked at the body behind him,

“Mom!”

A voice came from the darkness of the kitchen that steadied Dean’s heartbeat,

“Sadly, it isn’t.”

Dean grinned,

“Sammy?”

His brother stepped out of the shadows, kicking the imposter out of his way as he passed,

“Hey.”

Dean stared at the state of his brother – the angel was completely covered in blood and Dean could see, through vicious tears in his clothing, that there were huge chunks of Sam’s flesh missing  and some of his bones were even visible, some with what Dean swore were teeth marks on. He gasped,

“What the hell happened bro’?”

Sam coughed as his injuries continued to heal,

“Fucking ghouls.”

“Shit.” Dean chuckled, “How did they get _you_ by the way? I thought you were this big-name archangel.”

Sam shook his head,

“Don’t ask. I was distracted and by the time I realised, they’d already started munching. Let me tell you, being eaten alive – that shit hurts!”

Adam stared,

“ _Munching_?”

Sam shrugged,

“Ghouls are usually scavengers – they feed off corpses. Dad was here, well, nine months before you were born, and stopped them, or he thought he did. He missed two and they went a bit off-script in their quest for revenge. A cop that helped Dad was first, the three of us were supposed to be last.”

Adam glanced at his older brothers,

“And my mom?”

Dean looked across at Sam who shook his head, before sighing sympathetically at Adam,

“I’m sorry Adam. Ghouls, they take on the appearance of the last body they ate. Sam only managed to walk away because that sorta thing can’t kill him. Hell I shot and stabbed him when he came back and he walked that off.”

Adam shook his head,

“No.No.”

Sam shook his head sadly,

“I’m sorry Adam. They already got to her when I got here.”

Adam got more desperate,

“No, no. You’re an angel – bring her back. You bring her back now.”

The angel shook his head,

“I can’t Adam. She’s too far gone. If it were a few minutes, I’d be pulling her out of the veil. This long? I’d be pulling her out of Heaven.”

Adam sounded broken,

“But you pulled Dean out of Hell.”

Sam shrugged,

“That was authorised and, even if it wasn’t, Dean didn’t belong there. Your mom is at peace and you’re not going to find a single angel that thinks that pulling her from that is a good idea.”

Adam bit his lip,

“But she’s my _mom_.”

Sam stepped closer and pulled his younger brother into a hug,

“I _am_ sorry Adam, but I can’t. For _her_ sake, I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to put up - I kinda hit a bit of writer's block for this story and couldn't really get this chapter to work in a way I liked - being honest, I'm still not convinced, but I need to move on.
> 
> In regards to the posting schedule from now on - I'll try and keep it fairly often, but I'm doing a BigBang this year and need to prioritise that if I'm going to finish in time.


End file.
